


Dapper Dresser

by AppleDaddyo, Caffinatedkitti, NotBrooke



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Canon, Angst, Anxiety, Asexuality Spectrum, Blood, Comfort, Courtship, Crossover, Dancing, Deviates From Canon, Drinking to Cope, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Horror, Horror References, Hurt, Idiots in Love, Intoxication, Magic, Memory Loss, Possessive Behavior, Possible Triggering Content, Reader is AFAB - Freeform, Sexual Content, Sexual Inexperience, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Songfic, Symbolism, Teasing, Trauma, Updates on Friday!, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2020-10-11 01:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 73
Words: 463,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleDaddyo/pseuds/AppleDaddyo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinatedkitti/pseuds/Caffinatedkitti, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotBrooke/pseuds/NotBrooke
Summary: “I hate you, just so you know.” You huffed out dramatically.“Oh, darling, you break my heart!” He put a hand to his head as if he were swooning. If there had been someone who was more dramatic than you had just been, it was him.He always tried to one-up you.“You don’t have a heart to break.”





	1. Always Read The Fine Print

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Dapper Dresser!
> 
> As courtesy to the authors, please DO NOT repost this fan-fiction in any way, shape, or form without our explicit permission. Thank you!
> 
> Join our 18+ discord here: https://discord.gg/nG4XzZr
> 
> Follow our Official Tumblr for upcoming spoilers, fan art, and more!: Dapperdresserr
> 
> Hazbin Hotel (c) Vivziepop  
Dapper Dresser (c) NotBrooke & Cumbersmaug, CaffinatedKitti

_Water. _   
  


The human body is made up of sixty percent water. How could something so simple, harboring the ability to maintain life or rejuvenate a land once wrecked by drought, be so dangerous? How could it be that something that could bring innumerable species together, could have catastrophic consequences? There is nothing in nature to be more appealing than to quench your thirst after a long, hot day of work; in fact, it’s almost irresistible. Too much, however...

Well, you supposed too much of _anything _could be fatal.

Did you know it's one of the first things that astronomers look for when investigating a new planet for signs of life? Without water, there _is_ no life.

Without water, things cease to exist.

How ironic it was that you had met your end due to water. It was almost laughable, really! But to say it was the single most terrifying moment in your existence wouldn’t be an over exaggeration of explanation. You can survive without oxygen for approximately two and a half minutes before your lungs start to scream for air. You can not suffocate yourself, your brain won’t allow you to. Instead, it will automatically force you to inhale and the moment your lungs fill with water, you want nothing more than to reach the surface and breathe.

There were an infinite number of ways you could be persuaded into never touching water again, but you had also heard that it was perhaps one of the more peaceful ways to go. Perhaps it would have been if you hadn't been conscious for the worst part of it all. If you hadn't, your slow lapse into eternal damnation would have been, dare you say it, as peaceful as you could get unless you took out the desire of dying at the old age of eighty-five in your sleep.

The struggle, the desperation, and then the acceptance with your attempts remaining futile. Money, riches, whatever the flashy green bills with some face etched into it can buy you will never amount to the longing to fill your lungs with air. It’s a terrifying experience.

But it was one that you had unfortunately gone through. 

Your hopes remained stagnant; the darkness had already curled into your husked body; beckoning you welcomingly with open arms. 

You had always wondered if, by chance, everyone had a day they were doomed to die. If there was some sick twist of fate, a puppeteers pulling at the strings while the puppets unknowingly were controlled by a higher force. You hadn’t been able to ask God.

There was no long, winding tunnel - no light at the end, there was no hellfire or screams of the damned, there was just _darkness_ and you supposed that was peaceful enough. To exist without existing, to be in bliss without being aware. Was this purgatory? No, you were not here nor there, or anywhere, but you were everywhere.   
  


You felt like you were being ripped apart and being stitched back together again without actually being physically torn, a hasty job for what was simply yet another sinner. There were incomprehensible whispers, and then silence.   
  


Until there wasn’t.

Sound was often the last thing to go upon death, but it seemed like it was the first thing to be reintroduced to you upon... reawakening? It didn’t entirely click to you that you were anywhere other than in a particular spot that was pretty damn uncomfortable. It was all muffled, as if you were totally and completely wasted and there was music blasting in the other room, too far for your consciousness to really make out specific details.

With what strength your preserved, you slowly sat up on your elbows.

Raising your left hand, you brought a fist to your eye before rubbing them gingerly, the smallest of frowns adorning your lips. The second thing you noticed in that moment, other than the sounds and distant talk, was that your lungs were screaming at you to _breathe; _brain short-circuiting as it finally vetoed whatever restraint it had previously forced itself to submit to and forced your lungs to expand with the sweet, precious air that—_good lord was the air stale here_—you so desperately needed.  
  


A singular eye opened, and then another, a darkness shrouding the entire land in a suspicious red hue that intimidated all those who dare to let their imaginations wander. At the very least, it was easy enough on your eyes to allow them to adjust, as unwilling as you had been previously.

A groan forced its way out of the chamber of your chest, reverberating through your ribs as your hands gripped the hard gravel beneath your palms. It clicked to you that, right then and there, with the minuscule stones lodged painfully into your skin, that you had no clue where the _fuck _you were and how you had gotten there.

The heart (such an important and vital organ in your life) sped up in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears. Needless to say, however weak, you managed to look around enough to discover you were, in fact, laying on a ground that was converted in bones of different animals or... _creatures_. No doubt someone's shitty attempt at a warm welcome. A grimace found its way upon your expression, your nose crinkling in disgust as you tried to damndest to return to the present. But everything was so difficult right now, you couldn’t even process much else that the most simple of things.

For the final kick in the ass that you had left to endure, it occurred to you that you were actually supposed to... figure all of this out. 

  
A warble in the background noise. Someone was talking. Turn around and face them, ask them where you are, get answers, you _coward._

Oh, they were talking to you.

"So ya just gonna sit there all day and rot or smth'n? Don’t really say I can blame ya."

Flinching, you snapped your gaze to the individual who caught your attention, your eyes squinting at the sudden glare of red light.

You weren’t sure why you noticed that the red light wasn’t normal before you figured out that no, there _weren’t _eight-foot anthropomorphic arachnids on the surface. Or maybe there were? You didn’t remember. Wouldn’t that be something you would remember? Hm.

"Well, I mean ya can't rot _anymore_." He laughed in a smug, mocking tone as if he just _knew _you were unable to understand whatever the hell was going on.

He was right.

An alarm went off in your head as you trailed your gaze up to narrow upon at the white, pink fluffed up... creature. It took all your will-power not to scream right then and there.

_Oh, that. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all. No sir-ee._

He took a step closer, and you instinctively scooted back. 

A loud, dramatic sigh and a roll of his mismatched eyes before he let them trail across your figure. You would have been jotting down that the eyes were curious if you know, weren’t considering that you very well may have fell down Alice in Wonderland's rabbit hole. 

"Right." Angel Dust huffed in a bored manner, his actions remaining idle. You were pathetic. Useless. Why was he wasting his time on you?

"Yer in Hell, blah blah, welcome to yer eternal stay or what’eva." He took another step towards you, leering down. In his explanation, his lower pair of arms leaned upon his hips, the top coming up to fluff up his chest. A moment passed before a single hand came down and pointed at you.

"... Hell?" You managed to croak out. Your eyes were wide, owlishly staring up at the creature in a mixture of awe and fear. 

He snapped his eyes to you. "Are ya deaf or somethin'? Yeah, _Hell." _He waited for you to respond, and once you didn't, he released an exasperated sigh. "Ya know, fire and flames 'n shit?" You see, this was why he didn't go to these parts of town often. 

He ran into nobodies like you!

You took a glance around. It didn't _appear _to be a land of suffering or eternal damnation. In fact, it looked far more similar to a large, run-down city. It hadn't clicked yet that being in Hell meant you were dead. One thing at a time, cowboy.

"How do I leave?" You turned to face him once again. His expression screwed up into a smile, in which looked more like a baring of teeth than an actual smile. He laughed, and by god did it take you longer than what would have been considered normal to realize he wasn't laughing because of what you said, but he was laughing _at _you.

"Toots, tha' only way yer leavin’ is if yer exterminated by those egotistical _pricks_ up there. So, make it worth yer while." He wiped away a stray, humorous tear. And then he began to turn away. He had shit to get done. 

You watched.

And then you stood up.

_"Wait.” _Your voice was hoarse, dry. You weren't sure why you had said anything at all, but you knew you needed to find out more. If he was offering you information, if you had a chance of figuring out what had happened to you, what was even _happening_, he was your best bet.

_Hell, Hell, you were in... Hell? _

The character of an individual paused, shoulders visibly sagged as if truly, waiting for you was the worst thing that could have ever happened to him. 

Legs still shaken, partly because of your inability to function them after the lack of use and partly because you were scared out of your fucking mind, you cautiously closed the distance between the two of you. He had his first pair of arms crossed and second pair on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently.

“I-“ You were cut off before you could continue. 

"_What? I _got places to be, people to do... Heh." A mischevious expression crossed his face, and you knew instantly that you did not like _that. _

_“_I mean, I just-“ 

"Oho, toots! I don't _swing_ yer way, but if ya want something, I'll do it for a quick cash grab!" He held out a gloved hand expectantly. His mood had instantly lifted. 

Your jaw fell open in shock and confusion. Was being cut off a common thing in this place?

"W-what? _No!_" Finally, some confidence. You shook your head rapidly. The world swam around you, dizziness suddenly becoming a very well known companion. Maybe slow that down a notch. "I-I just want to know why I'm here, why-" You were cut off by mocking laughter.

The bastard was laughing at you. Again. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm messin' with ya toots, don't get ya pretty little tits in a twist." He waved a hand at you in a dismissive nature. 

"I doubt ya got any cash on ya anyhow. _Last prick sure didn't..."_ He trailed off, looking off to the side with a frown before perking up almost immediately. “But hey! Don’t look so drab, yer making _me_ feel bummed out just lookin’ at ‘ya. ‘Yer in the best part of the nine circles!”

He paused, looking at your dumbfounded expression with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

"Yer here ‘cause ya did some ‘_bad thing in your life that eternally damned you to Hell_’. It ain't all that bad here though, ya get all the shit you wanted done without repercussions!“ He laughed, “Drugs are my personal favorite, and- and! Doin’ otha demons!" He sure rambled a lot, and he didn't seem like he was finished. You didn’t mind too much, really, though you couldn’t bring yourself to even begin to wrap your brain around his jovial words. 

Truthfully, you had missed the majority of it. 

_Demons_. 

You felt lost. Unsure. A _fool_. Maybe you had just gone insane; yeah, that _had_ to be it because you hit your head too hard on... something and went a little crazy! Ha-ha!

_But why did that feel wrong?_

The feeling that coiled in your gut only made you feel nauseous. The terrain was unfamiliar, strange, foreign.

There had to have been a mistake if whatever he had said was remotely true. Hell was a place for the bad people, right? The place where murderers went to suffer, the sinners—You weren’t a bad person. Could it be that any sin damned you to Hell? No. _That didn’t sound right!_ Everything was fuzzy after you went into the water; the way you had gotten into it in the first place becoming more of an uncertain thought, the more you were conscious. You weren't certain if it had been a beach, or a lake, or a river, or even if you had been in a boat, or maybe you had gone swimming at that point.

Something _happened_ to your memories.

“Listen, ya make me feel like shit just lookin' at ya, so I don’t do this often." 

You looked up at him with knitted brows. Focus on him. He was your grounding, and you desperately needed it because you felt your psyche crumbling away with each passing moment.

"I’ve... ah, been _‘clean’_—“ He made bunny ears out of all four of his arms before putting a hand to your back and pushing you in front of him. You supposed that meant to _walk. _“—For two weeks now; and I take it ya’ don’t got a place to stay. Once in a death-time offer, lady—“ 

"Okay."

You looked behind your shoulder to see him lag behind a bit in surprise. 

He narrowed his eyes.

He seemed surprised that you had agreed so fast, so utterly trusting of something you had no knowledge of. You could have just signed away through word of mouth your soul and you would have not known the difference. Eventually, however, his expression morphed into a smile full of sharp teeth that _absolutely_ screamed danger. Such a spontaneous agreement that you had to wonder why you had done so without thinking twice.  
  


The word 'hotel' was the only familiar thing that you recognized and, until you could figure out why you had been placed here, you needed a place to stay. To think things through. A quiet place to freak the fuck out, alone.

Yeah, that made sense.

You just hoped that the beds weren't made of the remains of dead people.

How bad could it _really_ be?


	2. Enjoy Your Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself in a hotel where everyone seems to be exceedingly /happy/.

The sheer number of things you learned in the conversation is limitless.

You had learned that the creature had an actual name, which made sense, you supposed. It was hard to imagine that he had even been human— _you_ had lucked out in that aspect.

You weren’t sure what you would have done if you had been turned into an eight foot tall arachnid. Nevertheless, you couldn't bring yourself to ask further questions, and for that, Angel Dust was more than eager for you to shut up. 

Though, he didn’t mind talking about himself.

Buried deep in your mind as the slutty spider babbled away about his latest territorial take-over, in which he explained what it was, taking advantage of the situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much about the nitty-gritty details; lest it became too much and you spiraled down into a rabbit hole of confusion and depression.

_Best to stay on the safe side and just let him chat it up. _

The situation was weird, as you’re sure anyone could believe.

_Demons?_ Surely they were only things that parents made up to make sure their children remained good, a folktale, a myth, or a legend.

Creatures with horns and bright red skin just _didn't_ exist and yet... a small frown touched your lips as you glanced up to freakishly tall creature walking next to you. Multiple arms, a fur-like texture, fluffed cleavage. Absolutely _not_ human. Though, it did have aspects, you supposed.

The longer you remained in this place, the easier it was to believe this wasn't some sort of shitty joke.

_You couldn't remember._

Couldn't remember the day upon the beach, who you had been, _why you were here._ The only things you remembered were your name and a few fuzzy details of your past— as if _something_ here had affected you from remembering what it was that you had done that was so bad in the first place. 

If you were truly in Hell, then you must have done something incredibly bad, no? The thought just didn't sit right with you, nausea creeping up from the depths of your stomach. 

And yet, despite wanting to ponder more and more on the how's and why's, your brain simply refused to allow it, blocking off your attention span to focus on the details of the world around you. 

For your own sake, it seemed to say.

A defense mechanism. The cloth that hung from your shoulders was thin, raggedy, _cold._ Scrapes and scratches, bleeding cuts, bruises all decorated your flesh, adorning it in dirt and all-around nasty grime. 

_“_So... ah, whatdja do?~” Angel sang. 

If you could have jumped ten feet in the air, you would have, but instead, you looked back up at Angel with wide eyes. You blinked. He didn't seem phased by your reaction in the slightest. It made you wonder what _he _did to get down here.

"S-sorry?" Your voice was subtle, a small whisper that didn't hold the confidence that it had earlier.

He didn't repeat it, an annoyed sigh released rom the chamber of his 'glorified persona'. 

"Hah! Ya really are pathetic, they’re gonna eat you alive down here. Now I’m really curious! So whatdja _do_? Murder, drug dealing, _sexual favors?_" He lowered his voice into a suave, flirtatious one upon the last word. 

Of course he would have wanted to know.

But you couldn't tell him, because you didn't even _know yourself._

With your blood and heart pounding in your ears, you cringed back as he leaned forward, all four limbs on his hips. A _demon, he was a demon_. Demons were bad, you must have been bad, you _had_ to have been. Discomfort flooded you.

"I..."A singular eyebrow rose. You were absolutely cornered right now-- "I... killed someone." You lied straight through your teeth.

He didn't seem fazed, almost disappointed really- whether or not him hearing that more times than he would like to hear and not having a reaction to it was good, was up to you. It was a lie, of course, but it was one you would have to stand by now that you were one, in a place you didn’t know and two, surrounded by the most dangerous criminals ever known to man.  
  


He looked you up and down with a scrutinizing gaze; as if internally wondering how someone like <i>you</i> would ever be able to murder someone in cold blood. 

Your fingertips twitched at your sides. He wasn’t dipshit— you weren’t very good at lying. He narrowed his eyes before shrugging.

"Whateva’." He didn’t care enough, anyway.

A sudden weight you didn't know was on your shoulders finally lifted off of you. Silence filled the expanse of the lack of speech as the two of you walked down the very cold, but far from vacant street.

The plethora of strange creatures in vast quantity caused a chill to scurry up your spine. Some had multiple eyes, others had fur like Angel, others looked similar to different things you'd find on Earth, some looked utterly out of place and foreign. 

You suddenly felt exceedingly out of place. 

Nevertheless, you remained as close as the effeminate spider would allow you to while also being wary for your own safety. The stroll was quiet, uncomfortable for you in ways you couldn’t begin to explain. The air remained stale. Your eyes trailed up to the sight above you; the red that painted the skies appeared in a similar manner as if the world had been ending.   
  


As if this truly were Armageddon.

No less, upon reaching the destination, you had slowed your pace.

Even the Hotel looked sinister. Somewhere you probably wouldn't trust to spend the night-- it loomed over the town intimidatingly, exceedingly large, and utterly well-worn.

Each step you took up the stairs creaked as if it threatened to give out at any moment.

Most definitely not somewhere you would have at the top of your list. Upon opening the door, Angel roughly brushed past you and was immediately greeted by what _looked_ like a pig.

An actual pig, you noted in your anticipation of it changing to something far more terrifying. It was just a... swine. 

It oinked happily, the hooves clicking against the hardwood floor. Said slutty spider had managed to release a gasp upon the sound of it meeting his... ears? He didn’t have ear. 

_Well, he must have had them, dumbass. How else would he hear?   
_

_"‘Nugs!” _ Angel cried in utter relief to seeing that his pig hadn’t been turned into bacon. He picked it up and spun around, before he allowed it to take residence in his fluffed cleavage. Your eyes continued to be trained upon them.

You remained rooted in place, a small head tilt as you studied the two.

"They didn't hurt ya, did they? Oh, ’Nugs, I'm so sorry for leaving you! Daddy had to go do his job."It was strangely endearing to see how much happiness radiated from the two in that moment, a feat you would have thought impossible in Hell. In fact, it was so similar to a how relationship between a person and their pet would be that you wondered: Did _you _ever have a pet?

But even that did not jog your memory from before— you couldn’t help but wonder if it was normal for such a thing to occur. You supposed it wasn’t, considering how he had questioned you. You were also aware that it probably wasn’t a normal thing on Earth, either. 

But this _wasn't_ Earth, was it?

No, it couldn’t be further.

_"Angel? Who's this?"_

There was a feminine voice, sweet in tone, lilted into a curious, hopeful one. It filled the vicinity with such inquisitiveness that it immediately brought all attention to her. Her appearance resembled that of a porcelain doll.

Her cheeks were abnormally dappled with a reddish hue, similar to that if she had been slapped with two pepperonis. Her hair rolled down her back before being laced together with a hair tie, and not only that, but she absolutely fucking rocked her outfit.

It reminded you of a manager of a hotel, someone proper, _regal. _But she also looked... uncertain. Unprofessional in ways that made you second guess if she had actually been the manager of such an establishment, You blinked, equally uncertain, but nevertheless intrigued. 

"Found 'er at the dump. Thought I could make it up to ya for making yer hotel look—“The response wasn’t cutoff by a whizzing sound, a _thump_, and then a loud _"HEY!". _

_  
_A knife was wedged into the wallpaper, Angel's outfit snagged in it before your attention was pulled to another individual. She was doused in a shade of silvers; her complexion interesting as much as the fact that, for the absence of her left eye, harbored a bolded, floating 'X'. Her face, unfortunately, was morphed into one of anger.

"It wouldn't look _sad_ if you hadn't had that territorial take-over!" Her hands were balled at her sides, nose crinkled in a show of aggression. She hadn’t noticed you yet, or so you assumed. 

Charlie, as you would soon learn, released an anxious laugh before placing a hand onto the woman’s shoulder. 

Surprisingly, it appeared to calm her down in ways that you would never have understood, lest you have experienced it yourself. There was something whispered and then they turned their attention back over to you. You swallowed.

Angel Dust began to try to dislodge the knife from his shirt, the pig didn’t even look remotely dazed. Instead, it curled deeper into the fluff.

You looked back over to them, and you stared owlishly, unsure of how to introduce yourself.

Charlie took a step forward in order to introduce herself, giving her hand for you to shake and happily chatting about the hotel and how they were happy to have you stay for 'rehabilitation’ if that were something you were interested in. 

"Rehabilitation? I didn't-" You cut yourself off, looking nervously between the trio. Charlie appeared almost defeated, Vaggie looked even more pissed off than before. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t aimed at you.

"You brought her here and you didn't tell her what we were _doing?_”

"Babe, babe, relax! I brought ’er here because... well..." He trailed off, eyes flickering to the knife in his hand with purses lips. Vaggie walked over and yanked it out of his hand. You watched as he scoffed and crossed his top set of arms, using the other to lean on his hips. 

As the two bickered, Charlie called your name and gave a nod to somewhere quieter. She seemed to know that no amount of reassurance would ever change the scuffle that Angel Dust and her girlfriend had. 

She led you down a long hallway, twists and turns that reminded you that you would never be able to find your way around without help.   
  


It was more like a maze than anything. 

Nevertheless, she eventually opened a door to a room and sorted through a closet. You assumed it was her room by how used it looked. Her tongue stuck out as she looked through, before pulling out a shirt, pants, and a pair of shoes that were almost miraculously your size. 

She insisted you change in the bathroom, and so you did. She remained outside the door to escort you back. 

"So, you rehabilitate demons so they can go to Heaven? Why?"

You noted that the shirt was adorned by lettering that stated ‘Happy Hotel Staff’, alongside a red smiley face.

You weren’t staff, Charlie assured you, but it was better than the raggedy clothes you were gifted with when you first arrived, as did every new arrival. You felt relieved; though, the nausea still pooled in your stomach, your nervousness reignited as she explained. 

"There's an annual extermination because Hell is so overpopulated. I hate seeing that happen, the suffering, the bloodshed, the corpses afterward. If I can make this hotel work and rehabilitate them, then there wouldn't be a need! Everyone could be happy." To say the least, you were stumped. The Princess of Hell yearning to do good? 

It was a laughable feat.

But you didn't laugh, no, instead you flattened out your shirt and stepped out of the bathroom.

"Charlie, I-"

She turned around and grinned, shark-like teeth adorning her mouth innocently and expectantly. It would take a while to get used to that. 

Originally your plan had been to right then and there tell her that you didn't even know what you did in the past that was so bad; as if she could be the source of all of your worries and woes. 

For some reason, she felt trustworthy; but you hesitated.

"Oh, they fit! Great!” She beamed excitedly, rocking on her heels.

At least she seemed genuine and, because of that, you just couldn't bring yourself to crush her dreams of rehabilitating her guest. You still needed a place to stay, however temporary.

"...Yes. Thank you." 

Charlie didn't seem to realize that you had been cut off as you stood there awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs.

And then a standing mirror was grabbed, unnervingly adorned with glass orange slitted eyes glassed eyes, and placed in front of you.

For a moment you stared at your battered and worn appearance. You, thankfully, recognizd yourself-- you had not been turned into a 'monster' like an unlucky few had been. You looked as normal as you could have been. 

But normal was not something that existed down here. Only the strange and wicked. It was not as it seemed. As you leaned in closer, you noticed that your pupils were slitted, and you made a similarity to either a cat or a snake. Or at least, that’s what you could closely compare it to. 

You could see normally, thankfully. 

Your confusion has dampened the urge to freak out, and Charlie almost looked relieved. You were sure that hadn’t been and wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you would see today.

Just as you were about to talk, you cut yourself off and noticed that your teeth were the _least_ normal thing about you. How could you have not have felt them? Your eyes widen a fraction.

They too, were sharp, like Charlie’s. Natural incisors and teeth had been molded into something of a far more haunting and dangerous appearance. You brought your hand up to your mouth and poked a singular tooth, as if testing the sharpness and durability. 

You gasped and reeled your hand away. Definitely don’t test those waters. Your eyes flickered down to your index finger, staring at the singular ruby rivulet that began to pool from the wound.

It was sharp. Obviously.

While Charlie was turned away doing something, you hastily rubbed your hand onto your pant leg. Thankfully, it was black, so you didn't have to worry about it being noticed. 

Shaken beyond belief, _because holy fuck you have sharp teeth and slitted eyes, this was no joke,_ you brought up two thumbs when the blonde woman turned back around and asked if you were ready to head back downstairs. 

Upon doing so, you were glad to find that it had settled down. 

You sat on the furthest end of the couch, suddenly leeched into watching the '666 News' that just so happened to be on.

Vaggie sat on the other end, head leaning on her hand while Angel sucked on a popsicle in a lewd manner.

Katie Killjoy was rapidly speaking, filling in the denizens of Hell on gossip about the most recent territorial takeover of three demons. Two of them you didn't recognize, one a snake that humorously wore with a 'swag' hat along with holding a skateboard.

He was accompanied by a cyclops with gradient pink and orange hair. The third, however, you _did_ recognize. Angel Dust. Just as you were about to turn your head to question him, a knock was heard.

Once, twice, multiple times in a rhythm that you barely recognized.

Charlie had previously been leaning against the door before trying to peer out of the stained glass, and at last, she opened it. You didn't pay too much attention, too focused on the battle that was being played back on live feed until a loud _SLAM!_ was heard. 

You jumped and immediately snapped your attention over to the suddenly nervous Charlie who was speed walking back over to the group.

"Uh, Vaggie?"She inquirer nervously. 

"Whaaat?" The moth demon held her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose, rubbing to alleviate whatever headache had accumulated within the time of your absence. 

Charlie put two fingers to her cheeks and pulled them up into a grin, accompanied by nervous laughter.

_"The Radio Demon is at the door!"_


	3. Sinister Smile

“Well, don’t answer it!”

”Ah- _who_?”

The news channel (you were actually surprised they had cable down here) was fading out of your attention and into your peripheral hearing; suddenly entranced by the chaos that was spurring on simply because of the fact that there was someone called “the Radio Demon” at the door. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was an actual talking radio; and if so, these demons weren’t very clever with nicknames. A frown rose onto Charlie’s face, which in turn cause you to frown. Despite Vaggie’s protests, you watch with a keen interest as the demon princess clears her throat, turns around her her heel; fixes her bow tie, and promptly opens the door. 

“May I speak now?”

The voice didn’t sound clear, as if it truly were talking through a radio. Fitting, but odd. Quietly, you remain on the couch next to Angel and Vaggie— their presence was far more comforting than standing on your lonesome or joining Charlie by the door. God, you hated feeling so... so lost. So out of element; it still hadn’t fully settled in with you that you were actually dead because, as you looked on, you felt very much alive. With all the strange things going on today, you almost felt disappointed the the Radio Demon wasn’t an actual talking radio, but instead a dapper dressed, thin, red coated... man? Would you call him a man? Anyways. Hair tufts sprouted upon his head; the color transition from black to red fitting compared to how red this new world was.

Vaggie had already stood up by the time the demon pulled Charlie closer by the arm and, quite literally, invited himself in.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart! Quite a pleasure!” Loud, brash, it instantly caught your attention, needless to say. Everything was so... _dreary_ here, with all this violence— but him? His presence tickled you funny; but also in a way that made sure you knew that he was dangerous. But that went with everyone here, didn’t it? Your slitted eyes focus back into the conversation at hand, and you notice then that Vaggie had taken some sort of spear and was marching up to where he was blindly walking. 

“-saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn’t resist! What a performance! I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!” While throwing his hands in the air, you look at Angel who catches your eye while absently, suggestively, sucking on his popsicle and shrugging his shoulders. You found yourself admiring how he didn’t seem to care much; not to mention that it was getting easier to look at his monstrous form. 

It was getting easier to accept all of this despite only having been down here for a few hours at most. After a moment, Angel got up and, like some sort of lost puppy, you trail right after him.

“Sooo many orphan-“

_“Stop. Right. There.”_

Vaggie had successfully stopped Alastor in his steps, now directly pointing the spear at his throat. He didn’t seem threatened by it, even as she claimed to know his ‘game’ and how she wouldn’t let him hurt anyone here. In fact, he glowered down at her, his smile stretching wider and— why did the air feel so weird? It felt like when you were touching a television screen, the static too weak to do any actual harm, but still there nonetheless.

“Dear,” he laughs as if he’s heard this all before, “if I wanted to hurt anyone here,” a pause, “I would have already done so.” Those words made a chill run up your spine, and not in the good way. 

The way that made you very happy that you weren’t the one holding the spear to his throat.

He pushed it away with a single finger, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if there hadn’t been a bunch of demonic symbols floating around just a moment ago. “No! I want to help!” Back to his normal self, and at that point, you found yourself standing next to Angel. He didn’t seem to know what the fuck was going on either, and while doing so, managed to appear disinterested in the entire thing. 

You wish you had that type of self control. 

“Say what now?” 

Charlie, who had been standing behind Vaggie this entire time finally spoke up, only for their personal space to be disregarded simply because Alastor repeated himself. “Help! Ha ha ha, hello~? Is this thing on?” He taps the microphone that you really only just noticed now. “Testing, testing-“ Imagine your surprise when the actual radio thing on a stick said:

“Well, I heard you loud and clear!” Your mouth felt dry.

“Um...you want to help wiiith...?”

Somehow his physical manifestation forged into something of a shadow, coming up behind them and lacing his hands around their shoulders.

“This ridiculous thing you’re trying to do!” To be quite honest, now that you were listening to his voice, the best way to describe it would be an exclamation point, every day, all day. And yet still, he managed to appear proper no matter how boisterous her sounded.

Remaining with Angel Dust seemed like the safest option right now. You had so many questions: did he know who this was? Vaggie acts like she does, so perhaps you would ask her when things cooled down; but considering this was Hell, you doubt that would ever come to be. Despite the amount of questions that fluttered around your mind, you can't bring yourself to actually ask. This was a lot more entertaining than the 666 News, at least to you. 

The conversation continued on and at last, you turn to Angel. It wasn’t as if you were buddy-buddy with him, but he was the one that had found you. You didn’t know what or who you would be if he hadn’t.

“Hey um, thanks for bringing me here.” You rub your hand against the back of your neck sheepishly. He still freaked you the fuck out, don’t get it wrong, but it was getting easier to talk to him before running away with your tail between your legs. 

He looked shocked, eyebrows raised as if he hadn’t been expected to be thanked for doing practically nothing.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” He turned away again, leaving you standing alone, before throwing himself onto the couch. You didn’t peep, holding your elbow as your arms hung loosely at your sides. It has only begun to occur to you at this moment that he probably hadn’t heard a genuine ‘thank you’ down here— and no less from a murderer. 

Or so he thought. Right. You had to stick by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arialys here!   
short chapter, I know, but more is on the way. Thanks for so many Kudos, it really helps motivate me to give you guys more! See you on the next chapter! 


	4. Strawberry Pimp

Within the minute the so called ‘Radio Demon’ had set foot through the door, Charlie had already been whisked off to wonderland. Whatever conversation was going on between them was muffled. That being said, there was a harsh ring of static that seemed to crackle in the air every few seconds. Vaggie had thrown herself on the couch. Her expression was bitter, arms folded in a huff. Angel mimicking her position except he bore a look of confusion, a single eyebrow raised as he pouted his lips.

“Ah, sooo, uh-” he began, rolling his fingers along the fabric of the couch. “What’s the deal with smiles over there?” With a casual wave towards the duo, the spider accidentally point at you as you made your way towards the couch - hovering at the scene and poking a finger at your bottom lip. The pressure allowing you to feel the razor blades that’d replaced your teeth...not that you wanted to touch them again (lesson learnt) but they were there. What else did you have to do, other than listen in to the conversation and act as an ornament to the hotel?

_“Wait.”_ Vaggie replied pointedly, hands out before her as if to crown Angel as the idiot of the year. “You’ve _seriously_ never heard of him before? You’ve been here longer than me!” Exasperated, she communicated with her hands, her arms remaining outright towards as she stared in disbelief at him. Angel simply shrugged his shoulders, a childish innocence plastered on the pornstar’s face.

You remained quiet, picking at your thumb’s nail with your index finger anxiously while also listening in to the story. Eventually, you dropped your hand to your side.

“The Radio Demon. One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen…?” Angel replied with another shrug, rolling his eyes in the process. 

“Eh-” he shrugged a third time, leaning back into the couch. “-I’m not big on politics.” He folded the top set of his arms to match the others, which causes Vaggie to release an ‘ugh’ in reply. She leant towards Angel, the demon rearing back as you watched on with intrigue.

“Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight-” It was the start of a story, it had to be, your intrigue only growing as you found your way to the space beside Vaggie; while perching on the edge with a quiet ‘thwump’. It was an old couch. Vaggie paused briefly, gaze darting to you before she returned to her tale.

“-He began to topple overlords who’d been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power has _never_ been harnessed by a mortal soul before.” She paused, taking a breath. “Then, he broadcasted his carnage all throughout Hell - just so everyone could witness his ability.” It was like the air in the room had become thick; suffocating. It felt familiar, but strange all at once. Foreign in the concept, but, well, you couldn’t exactly put a finger on it. Dangerous, just like this whole new, strange world appeared to be at second glance. An unnatural shiver ran up your spine with tantalizing accuracy; but still, you remained quiet as Vaggie continued.

“Sinners started calling him ‘the Radio Demon’ _(As lazy as that is)_. Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient and destructive Evils.” As the demon caught her breath, you remained enthralled. Morbid curiosity entranced you, yet concern began to ebb at your heart as you caught sight of the individual that this story was all about. The toothy, sinister grin that remained unmoving only adding to the sense of danger that the world wrought upon the inhabitants, and now you as well.

“He’s an unpredictable source of danger. A wicked spirit of mystery and a vile monster of chaos the likes of which wE CANNOT RISK GETTING INVOLVED WITH-l” Vaggie’s voice rose an octave, confirming your earlier suspicion of having an exceedingly short temper. Whether or not it was concern that caused it to forge into her words or not, was up to interpretation. However, it did manage to bring your attention back to the story, which unfortunately for you, seemed to be coming to a close.

“-UNLESS WE WANT TO END UP ERASED!”

Angel seemed unfazed by her anger, head cocked her way with a simple: “Ya done?” A series of mocking laughs fell from his lips as he turned to look at who you were looking at only moments ago. “He looks like a strawberry pimp!” A small smile appeared upon your own mouth at that; Angel was many things, but he was also humorous. And in a place where you felt like everything could eat you if you looked at them the wrong way, it was appreciated. At long last, you were able to survey how he acted.

Now that you knew what to look for. He spoke with his hands, you noted, jotting that down in your memory to store it for later. “Why do you think he came here, if he’s so bad?” You turned to look at the two of them, eyebrows raised. Surely, someone so bad wouldn’t want to be ‘rehabilitated’, right?

“He says he wants to help.” Vaggie hissed, clearly not as keen on the idea as he was. “He’ll tear us apart though - were you not listening? All he wants to do is pull this place down…” she trailed off, her shoulders sagging. “After all the hard work Charlie’s put in as well- we can’t let him destroy it!” There was a genuine moment of concern that found its way into her voice then, and it made your eyes soften considerably: she and Charlie were exceptionally close, it seemed. Everybody but Alastor and yourself seemed to know each other. Angel seemed to lack any empathy for the other demon, teasing her as you sat idly by. Vaggie, finally having enough, stood to retrieve her friend.

Whether or not they were actually friends, was up in the air.

They did seem a bit closer than what ‘friends’ would be. “Charlie, _listen to me._” She grabbed her shoulders, turning the demon princess to her. Alastor only smiled-- as he always did, before shrugging his shoulders and turning to look at a picture of what looked to be the royal family. Since Charlie was the center of the masterpiece, you supposed it was the only thing it could be.

“You can’t believe this creep, he isn’t just a happy face.” They both turned to look at him, the Radio Demon’s humming audible from where you sat. “He’s a deal maker, pure evil, he can’t be redeemed - and he’s most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do!” It seemed as though she was clutching at straws, trying to find the needle in the haystack; something to stop Charlie from falling victim to Alastor’s schemes. The princess fought for words, attention darting between the two of them.

“We don’t know that…” She began softly, and in that moment, she reminded you of yourself in some ways. “Look, I know he’s bad and I know he probably doesn’t _wanna_ change but the whole point of this is to give people a chance!” The demon in question appeared enthralled with the picture still. Angel hung his head over his arm, both of you sat like an audience to the unfolding events. Even with Vaggie pleading with Charlie, she seemed set on enlisting the ‘help’ of Alastor.

It took a long moment of contemplation, but she eventually turned to Alastor and he, in turn, faced her as well. The conversation lasted only a few moments, but as the Radio Demon snapped his fingers together in a flash of green light, a blast of energy of raw power (similar to what Vaggie had mentioned) engulfing the room in a bright hue. It felt far more intense, like a wave crashing over you.

And in that moment, you began to realize why it didn’t feel all that foreign.

Angel shot you a strange look, but you were in a daze, your mind blank but so full of memories that weren’t memories, in a sense, but feelings. And as fast as the wave had hit you, it had passed. With a couple of blinks, you shake your head, clearing your throat, and leaned back onto the dusty couch, watching as the chaos raged on. With some sweet words, Charlie had seemed to win over the Radio Demon. The microphone that’d been in Alastor’s left hand vanished like magic as he proceeded to make his way to the centre of the hall. Angel Dust had found his way to the counter of the front desk, leant against it while simultaneously leaving you alone once again. Alastor took his time, humming away to tune that was similar to the one he had been singing prior as he strolled around, inspecting the hotel until he came full circle to Charlie’s side.

“So where is your hotel staff?” He inquired, bending down to Charlie’s height with an eternally stretched smile. He knitted his arms behind his back like a proper gentleman, keeping that uncomfortable distance between them all the while.

“Uh… well…” Charlie mused, hands pressed together as if she was praying for a miracle. Like clockwork, Alastor rose, facing Vaggie who shot daggers at him from where she stood. Fixing his monocle, the demon didn’t hesitate to share his disappointment with the so called ‘staff’.

“Oh ho, ho, no, you’re going to need more than _that._” The clicking of his shoes faded away as he walked in the direction of Angel, who was now sitting on a stool, lips pursed.

“And what can you do my efemininent fellow?”

“I can suck ‘yer dick.”

You could hear a pin drop, your jaw dropping. And then it occurred to you that it probably wasn’t that strange at all for Angel to say it so bluntly-- after all, it’s what he did on the daily as a porn star. “HA!” Alastor exclaimed, the ‘amusement’ on his face quickly dropped.

“_No._”

He scoffed, amused, “‘Yer loss.”

You’d been watching the whole time and somehow, it didn’t click that Alastor was making a beeline straight for you. Even when he bent to your height, he still towered above you, a shadow falling over his face as he beamed at you.

“And how about you, darling? I suppose you are a bit more promising!” It was as if he was just going around asking, already hellbent on the idea that this shit show was not a hotel in the least.

“Oh, I uh…” you trailed off, tongue tied in knots. “I’m just here as a guest.” Each word was torture as you forced them out. Alastor simply tilted his head, your own snapping to Charlie and Vaggie as he leaned in closer, as if he was feeding off your reaction of invading your personal space. But they weren’t much help-- they only shrugged. At least Charlie smiled reassuringly.

“Then why does it say ‘staff’, right _here?_” Alastor asked, the microphone soon in his hand as he tapped the end against your shirt.

You looked down, mouth suddenly dry.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please welcome HandMonsters as my co-writer! Together, we’ll be making this story as awesome as possible, just like our following is! Expect one chapter every Friday, including this Friday too! 
> 
> Go check out her equally good Alastor fanfic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21234347


	5. He Almost Won The Whole Pot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support, we're both thrilled and super excited to bring you many more chapters! The next chapter will come out next Friday, and, as always folks:
> 
> Stay tuned...
> 
> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

Your heart thrummed in your chest; the intensity of how he stared at you expectantly made your stomach coil. It felt as if your stomach and heart had switched places; repulsed by, _no_, not the mere sight of him, but instead the feeling of being expected to answer in a way that would satisfy his pestering. You weren’t sure why his proximity bothered you so much; no one else’s did. It was probably because he had a flare about him that _screamed_ danger; an eternal shadow that cooked up schemes when your back was turned.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him verbally, so you simply shrug your shoulders. “No organization,” he muttered, perhaps the quietest you had ever heard him thus far. Until this point, you had been unsure if it was truly possible for him to even achieve. His eyes narrowed at the wall behind your head for a moment, before taking his microphone stand off of your chest, and briskly turning around.

“No, no, this won’t do, not at all!” There it was. The exuberant personality that made you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in for so long. At least you weren’t the point of his focus now— aaand you spoke too soon. With a wave of his finger, he summoned a broom and tossed it to you; instinctively you flinched but, with barely successful accuracy, you had caught it. He seemed pleased in some sort of way, as if all his plans were starting to come together one way or another.

“Congratulations-“ he paused, bowing as if he had just performed a grand show: “-you’ve been promoted to Cleaner! _Now_,” He clasped his hands together in a pleasant manner, eyes closing momentarily to accommodate it. He took a long look around, putting a hand to his chin before, almost impossibly, his grin extended.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to leave you to all _this_.“ he waved his hand in to show you the wreck that just so happened to be the hotel.

Clearing your throat, you stood up from off the couch, only to watch as Charlie and Vaggie soon followed after him. You supposed you should too. Hesitantly, you stood next to Charlie, suddenly comforted by her presence. It felt easier to breathe; an act of kindness goes a long way. Nevertheless, you turned your attention back to the fire pit that was extinguished, listening in as he claimed that he could ‘_cash in some favors._’

With a snap of his finger, it erupted in flames, bringing with it an inky black mass that fell to the bottom, seemingly unaffected from the fire but nonetheless remaining motionless. Alastor didn’t seem fazed, not that you were expecting him to be considering how he had created whatever it was, and only walked towards it, bending down to pick it up by some sort of fabric.

Only for a singular orange eye to pop open.

For a long moment it remained vacant, void of life before suddenly snapping up and staring directly at _you_. Your mouth, previously closed, hung ajar. You only regained your composure when you felt someone leaning over your shoulder: Angel. “The fuck is that.”

His question was answered soon enough, turning your attention back to see that the black mass had turned into a very bright, rather adorable, cyclops. “_This_ little darling is Niffty!” He dropped her, and you were expecting a fall from that height for such a little creature would elicit some sort of recovery period from ‘Niffty’, but it did not seem to be such.

“Hi! I’m Niffty,” she greeted, grinning ear to ear; “It’s nice to meet you!” Her pupil went from one to another, only increasing in speed that you had to look away to not get dizzy. “It’s been a while since I’ve made new friends,” she paused a millisecond before continuing, pointing her finger and shaking her head in a confused manner: “Why’re you all women?”

Your eyebrows shot up, looking over at Charlie who seemed pleased with this new development, Vaggie who was standoffish, and Angel who seemed offended. Within the time you could blink, you were suddenly being lifted off the ground with inhuman strength, a gasp fleeing from your lips as the sound of Vaggie’s spear alerted you.

“Are there any men here!? I’m sorry that was rude. Ohh man! This place is _filthy!_” If you had thought Alastor’s energy was infinite, you were beginning to think otherwise. “It really needs a lady’s touch, which is weird because you’re all ladies, no offense but this is awful!”

You couldn’t help but be slightly amused by the creature’s antics, eyes wide and following the fast-moving Niffty as she climbed different furniture, dusting around and making sure _everything_ was in tip-top shape. You hadn’t realized you were meant to _work _with her until you remembered the broom in your hand.

“Hah! Read ‘em and weep boys, full _oooo-_“ Your attention was pulled to the front of the room along with everyone else, the air turning staticky with a sheer intensity before fading out altogether. There was a nearly perfect cut out room illuminated with the same green hue as seen when Alastor had attempted to persuade Charlie into a deal.  
You instantly knew that he had something to do with this.

“-the hell? What the _fuck_ is this?” The winged cat demon, which had been rudely interrupted in his game of Poker, spoke mostly to himself, eyes frantically searching the new establishment that he had found himself teleported to. Alastor, hand on his hip, awaited for some type of signal from the newcomer. In the meantime, you remained silent, inquisitively watching the events unfold.

At last, the demon’s gaze met Alastor’s presence, and immediately began pointing at him: “_You._” It became apparent that they knew each other in some sort of way; either that, or Alastor was so well known and feared that even the gamblers and drunks spent time listening to his story. It was weird seeing that this man adorned in a red outfit, was capable of such horrors. But this was Hell, and with his showcase of what powers he had, you didn’t doubt the rumors.

“Ah, Husker! My good friend,” he put his hand on Husker’s shoulder, only to be roughly pushed off-

“Don’t you ‘Husker’ me, you son of a bitch. I was _ABOUT_ to win the entire pot!” He motioned towards the table, the money losing transparency and fading away. Hands behind his back, Alastor simply smiled.

“Good to see you too.”

Facepalming, he grumbled: “What the hell do ‘ya want with me this time?” You remained watching the entirety of the scene unfold; truly, this was the most entertained you had felt in a long time, despite, y’know, the very real danger that was making his way around the Hotel and talking up the commoners.

“My friend,” he hooked his arm around his shoulders, leaning into his side, “I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that’s okay.”

“Are you shittin’ me!?”

He hummed, “No, I don’t think so!” And audience laugh that resounded around you made you instinctively look around as if you were _truly_ being filmed. The others did too before shrugging it off and letting it be; surely, it was not the craziest thing you had seen in the few hours you had been down here.

“You thought it would be some kind of _big fuckin’ riot_, just to pull me out of nowhere!?” Husk yelled. Alastor adjusted his sleeve, smiling to himself all the while, “you think I’m some kind of fuckin’ clown!?”

He now smiled, but without baring his teeth. It was almost as if he was holding in laughter.

“Maybe.”

The same sound of audience noise arose again, but you ignored it, fairly certain who it was coming from. Walking past ‘Husker’, the Radio Demon suddenly appeared out of thin air behind him, just as he finished his sentence of: “_I ain’t doin’ no charity job…_”

Holding him in a tight grasp, the demon exclaimed: “Well I figured you would be the _perfect_ face to man the front desk of this fine establishment.” He motioned toward the bar that had come with the new room. “With your charming smile-“ his fingers found Husker’s lips and spread them apart into a forced grin, and you were in just the right position to see him frown not even a second after.

“-and welcoming energy, this job was _MADE_ for you!” He walked away, holding his hand to his chest; a crooked grin that you could only see the side of from your positioning (which just so happened to be leaning against the wall now), forming on his face as he looked back momentarily. Nevertheless, he continued on his way towards the bar, Husk continuing to frown in his direction.

“Don’t worry my friend! I can make this more welcoming, _if you wish_.” He turned around, hands in the air and, after a moment of motioning with them, a bottle that you couldn’t see the title of appeared on the counter. Folding your arms, you brought your attention back to the broom that still remained in your hand.

Right.

You began sweeping aimlessly, without any real purpose other than trying to contribute. Niffty had been standing nearby, the small cloud of dust that swirled in front of her face caught her attention as did the majority of other things. She hadn’t been lying when she said this place was filthy! Her single eye darted in the direction it’d come from to see you sweeping away - bouncing on her toes already as she zipped in front of you.

Your work was short lived, now staring at the little...demon girl as she held a brush twice her size.

“You! Lady - you’re a cleaner too!” She chimed, tiny frame almost a blur as she continued to bounce around. You nod, uncertain how to respond as you picked words from your brain.

“I just started, I guess.” You told her your name.

“Niffty! Nice to meet you! Oh my goodness it’s so exciting to meet someone who likes cleaning as much as I do!” She held out a hand, forcing you to bend down and shake. You couldn’t help the small smile that formed on your lips; her energy was contagious.

Alastor had seemingly pulled her from thin air, and whilst they were both spunky, she seemed too small and too sweet to be associated with him. Yet, you continued to remind yourself that you were, in fact, hell.

“You missed a spot over there! And there! And _there!_” Niffty suddenly piped up, pointing all over the room. You were lost for words as the demon began to sweep where you were.

“I’ll do here, and the upstairs, and everywhere else!” She exclaimed.

“Oh - okay then!” You watched as she darted around in a flurry of pinks, reds, whites, and oranges. Your eyes flicker down to your broom, a soft smile forming at your lips— surely, cleaning couldn’t be _that_ hard.

You glanced around the hotel and _immediately_ realized your mistake. Oh boy.


	6. As If It Couldn’t Get Any Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In any case - it has arrived! Thank you for being so patient again; as always, the next chapter will be posted next Friday. We have also created a _brand spanking, new, amazingly official discord server_ dedicated to the story!
> 
> If you'd like to give us feedback, discuss the story, or just plain chat with us and your fellow Hotel dwellers, then join [here!](https://discord.gg/WUSQd3T)
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE

For the two minutes you’d been sweeping, it felt like an eternity - the wooden handle of the broom digging into the soft flesh of your palm; it was bad enough you were being directed to a new spot every other second, but the pain was an unwelcome bonus.

Meanwhile, chaos continued to erupt over by the bar.

“Hey - _hey, hey hey hey!_” Vaggie had placed herself between the group and the bar; arms outstretched as if she were trying to hide it behind herself. “_No!_”

“No bar, no alcohol!” She declared, limbs moving in a furious attempt to take into account what was happening. “This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin. Not some kind of mouth, brothel, man cave!” She finally thrust a finger in the direction of the bar; Husker practically inhaling his cheap booze without a care in Hell. From where you were, you had the perfect view to see Angel Dust suddenly charging across the floor, gracefully leaping into the air like some sort of predator, his words slurring together as he flew.

“_SHADDUP!_” He howled, tackling the goth demon to the ground with less grace.  
“SHUT. _UP!_” His gaze burnt into her skull, taking on a deathly serious tone. You couldn’t quite make out what he said, but he point his arms towards the bar; Husker included as the spider slid from the ground and skid along the counter - face inches from the gambler.

“_Heeey~_”

“Go fuck yourself.” There was no hesitation from Husker as he attempted to avoid the insistent spider; Angel Dust capturing his face in his many hands and luring him closer with a bold:

“Only if you _watch me_.” You almost felt pity for Husker. Being assaulted by one demon after another wasn't much fun. Angel Dust was cast aside, holding his composure perfectly as he merely rest a hand against his hips and sauntered off. Charlie however, was strung across her bar; her hand extended to Husker as she radiated a postivity the likes you presumed was rare in Hell - and you felt moody just watching her.

The way she bounced excitedly like Niffty, her broad grin, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the display. Although, another feeling soon crawled across your skin, one that caused you to straighten up in impending fear - a blur of red passing by you; Alastor soon in your field of vision as you realised you hadn’t known where he was until he’d walked past.

It unnerved you, to say the least. _Where had he been all that time?_

The thought only made your skin crawl with something akin to uncertainty, _untrustworthiness;_ something that continued telling you that you shouldn’t have taken your eyes off him - but it was impossible to watch him at all times. No, cut yourself some slack, it wasn’t your _job_ to watch him. It was your job to _sweep_.

“Sooo,” he began, Charlie whipped around to acknowledge him, “whaddya’ think?” You tried your best to keep them in your peripheral vision, nevertheless eavesdropping on the conversation anyway. It wasn’t like you could get reprimanded for it. You dusted some glass shards away, a sigh befalling your lips.

“This is am_AZING!_” She squealed, reminding you of a child that’d just opened what was the best present in the world; your eyebrows slowly perking up as you watched radio demon batted his eyelashes at her with a sweet smile. Everybody seemed to be destroying any perceptions you’d already developed, or _thought_. Charlie, the apparent ‘Princess of Hell’, had to have been the most happy-go-lucky person you’d met in both life _and_ death— not like you could remember anything from your actual life, yet.

Meanwhile, the acclaimed Radio Demon, who’d broadcast what was essentially mass genocide across Hell was attempting to win the award for Miss Universe with those looks. The thought made you breathe harshly out of your nose in sheer humor. _Still_, he was a force to be reckoned with, it was common knowledge at this point.

“It’s _okay_.” Vaggie huffed, injecting herself into the conversation - Alastor’s attention moving over to her with that same, unnerving smile. He swept them both up in his arms without a moment's thought. You stopped sweeping for the briefest of moments, your eyebrows raised in concern. Charlie had only even been nice to you so far; and at this moment, you could only begin to understand why Vaggie was so insistent about keeping the Radio Demon a good distance away.

“_Ha ha ha! Well!_” It almost sounded sarcastic as he laughed through the static that disguised his voice. “This is going to be _VERY_ entertaining!” Vaggie was thrown to one side for the second time since you’d been at the hotel. Alastor clicking his fingers as a flame lit above his palm. The breath caught in your throat as music erupted from no-where. He shoved Vaggie to the side, your eyebrows raised. Swallowing your uncertainty, you watched from the center of the room to where Angel Dust was just _barely_ managing to keep her under control.

It wasn’t like you could do anything really, so you remained as a support. You remained in an inanimate position, leaning on your broom in an attempt to appease the situation however you could. Things had _amazingly_ gone from strange to stranger in record time, even as you tried to process what was happening in the first place.

Was _he_ going to sing? Was he _really_ going to sing?

The answer already announced the second he opened his mouth. The new suit he donned—_somehow_—adding to your confusion.

“You have a dream!” He began, your mouth agape as you watched him take Charlie’s arms, spinning her around as her expression lit up further. A feat you hadn’t been sure was even possible.

“You wish to tell-” he bowed, still towering over her as he swirled a finger above Charlie’s head - her hair winding up and suddenly nestled beneath a hat as a dress fell across her frame, “-and it’s just laughable!” It was hard to keep up with what was going on - Alastor moving so quick that by the time you’d blinked he was hovering above a fuming Vaggie; then he was holding Charlie before tossing her up.

“But hey kid, what the hell!” Alastor declared, his hand raised as he waited for gravity to bring Charlie down. Three individual notes sounding out, each one striking fear into your heart as the band struck up - the lights getting brighter, harsher and more colourful with them resounding around you. You squint in the neon scenery, the hotel completely transformed as Alastor and Charlie danced away atop the stairs.

“Cause you’re one of a kind!” You clutched the broom tight as you watched them do the Charleston; gaze flickering towards the bar to find that everyone, including Niffty, remained there - albeit Vaggie still tried to maintain proximity to Charlie. “Charming demon belle!” There was barely time for you to step back as Alastor and Charlie slid down the bannister, hand in hand - hurtling past you as you stifled a yelp.

Your back hit the wall, the pair continuing on merilly.

“Now let’s give these burning _fools_ a place to dwell!” You heard Alastor sing, a click of his fingers following and you found yourself gawking at those standing by the bar - their outfits changed in an instant. The fear swelling to pure terror inside yourself as you felt the weight on your body shift - you were lighter; a swing dress clinging to your frame perfectly, a hat on top of your head.

And the broom - you threw it aside with a yell, the arms of the suit flailing helplessly as it fell to the floor, nothing to support it. Why did it need a suit? It wasn’t even _alive!_ You had no time to think about such trivial things.

“_Take it boys!_” Alastor chimed- six shadow like demons popping from the floor with an array of different horns. Trumpets, tubas, you attempt to scoot out of their way, only isolating yourself further as you stepped back towards the entrance.

As your fingers grasped the handle however, the soft clink of chains and feel of a padlock told you that you couldn’t run even if you _wanted_ to.

Vaggie was soon tossed aside like a ragdoll once more as she attempted to reach Charlie, who seemed to be having genuine _fun_. The Radio Demon grouped them all together, laughing as the band played, more shadow concoctions appearing around the group with such ferocity that you knew they meant ill.

“Inside of every demon is a lost cause!” Alastor continued as everybody slipped back into their previous positions. With a hug and a hat given to both Angel Dust and Husker (the latter of whom returned the gesture with a middle finger), Alastor slid over to Vaggie.

She stood with her arms folded; a hat adoring her head in an instant as the radio demon tapped her with the microphone stand: a stuffed fox soon curled around her shoulders. As if he hadn’t annoyed her enough, he gave her a slap on the ass before going on his merry way - Vaggie never looked so furious.

“And we’ll ornate this cesspool!” Alastor sang, kicking aside a shadow demon into oblivion as he strolled and danced his way along the red carpet and straight towards you.

Towards _you?_ Realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

_Oh God, oh no_ \- you leant back into the door as your insides danced in their own way.

“With some old redemption flair,” With a skip and a bound and a swing of his stand, the demon ripped you from the safe haven of the door. You didn’t know what to do - how to dance, you felt sick, spun around in a flurry as the radio demon dragged you across the floor.

“And show these simpletons some proper class and _style!_” You were led towards the fireplace, dancing all the way as the demon beamed at you and your clumsy footwork as you tried to keep up with him, let alone dance.

“Here below ground-” you finally stopped, let go as you tried to regain your balance, stumbling nevertheless. He tapped the fireplace with the stand and the _next_ thing you knew you were sandwiched against his side once again - staring directly into the burning eyes of a shadow that looked completely like him, its grip tight on your shoulder as it almost enveloped you both.

You nearly screamed, staggering back and bumping into one of the smaller shadow demons. It spun around and leapt up, blaring it’s horn right in your face, Alastor soon by your side as you were swept away to dance once more.

“I’m sure your plan is sound!” Alastor cooed, casting a glance to Charlie as she tapped her foot away to the beat - attempting to get Vaggie to dance too. All the while, you stared in horror at the demon, his hands clasped just a bit too tight around your own. His attention returning to you as his smile only grew, eyes narrowing slightly.

“They’ll spend a little time-” he sang, certain you were going to vomit as he spun you around, once, twice, your stomach lurching with each turn, suddenly let go. You almost tumbled over, staggering back towards Niffty who danced eagerly in the centre of the floor. She’d jumped up, catching your hands as you fell past her, swinging you back into balance - a nervous laugh passing your lips as she grinned; a crazed shine to her eye.

Alastor now stood before you all, his arm outstretched for his grand finale.

“Down at this Hazbin Ho-” _what?_ To think things had been going fast before; in a fraction of a millisecond, a bright orange light exploded behind Alastor. There was an explosion, from what you could witness from your viewpoint. Beyond all of the chaos, you heard Niffty yell.

Suddenly, she was not next to you.

Surprised and immediately concerned because you were _certain_ you’d just seen half the wall flying in your direction only a moment before.

_Oh, you were still holding onto him._

“Watch yourself there!” Alastor exclaimed as you slid from his frame, legs jelly. “Why, you almost lost your head there, dear!” How could he be so calm? A flurry of thoughts as you ripped yourself from his grasp: _What was going on? Was Niffty alright?_ You turned in the direction of the demon, her tiny body arising from the rubble with a cheer and a bold ‘_again!_’.

You breathed an audible sigh of relief.

You turned back around, noticing through the rubble and smoke that the wall you had been leaning against before the entire fiasco was _missing_ and— was that a _zeppelin?_ You joined the crowd that was peering out of the gaping hole now; then and only then did you actually see the pilot of said zeppelin.

“_HAH!_” The snake cackled. “Well, well, well, look who it is harboring the _striped freak!_“ You watched from behind the safety of the remaining wall as the others strode out casually to confront the individual.

“We meet again, Alastor!”

“Do I _know you?_” Stranger to some degree, you assumed. The snake’s hood flared up, anger etched in his features as he leered at the radio demon.

“_OH YES_ you do-” he hissed, retreating back into the ship and out of view momentarily. “-and _this_ time I have the element of _SSSURPISE~!_” Even from your post, you were mortified as you watched the group of demons you’d only known for about thirty minutes came face to face with a gun larger than them all.

As it powered up, a blinding light forced you to shield your eyes - a chorus of laughter accompanying it.

Until it dimmed, the air sucked from your lungs as sheer _dread_ began to swell within you. It was not a nice feeling; it was uncomfortable and coiled in the pit of your stomach, even as the blood simultaneously drained from your face.

The air was static, stronger than before. Even from the distance you stood, it made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

It was like reality had been ripped apart at the seams, what looked like tentacles protruding from the earth itself and crushing the zeppelin with monstrous precision and force, damaging every inch of the ship. You could see Alastor’s hand move, the dread only intensifying as you looked at him, unable to look elsewhere; somehow _knowing_ he was still smiling.

Then, _BOOM_ \- the blast from the explosion had you fall back onto your rear, hands splayed out behind you. Taking a glance around, your eyes fell to his form; an expression of utter satisfaction adorned his features, the light from the explosion created almost _malicious_ shadows that danced across his face.

Your chest heaved in short, sharp breaths - Alastor’s voice so loud that you were certain all of Hell could hear him as he casually turned on his heel and began to head back for the hotel.

“_Well!_” He declared, “I’m starved, who wants some jambalaya? My mother once showed me a _wonderful_ recipe for jambalaya, in fact, it nearly killed her hahaha! You could say the kick was right out of Hell!” He laughed, his voice growing louder the closer he got to the hotel.

“I’m on a _roll!_ Yes sir, _THIS_ is a start of some real changes down here!” All you could hear was him rambling on - barely noticing him pass, even as he side-eyed you.

“Come now, everybody’s invited! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to all dine together to celebrate the grand opening of this hotel?” You felt as if all the weight of the world was crashing down around you. Charlie was busily soothing Vaggie as they passed, Husker storming ahead with Angel Dust hot on his heels - the spider hesitating as he saw you still frozen to the spot.

“Hey toots,” he began, curiously raising an eyebrow as he glanced back at the others, “ya don’t look so good…” he trailed off, brows knit together; his lower set of arms reaching for the fluffy peaks of fur that protruded from his cleavage.

“‘M sure if ya asked nicely, that _gorgeous_ fella over there might give you a free drink.” Angel Dust chuckled, as he ‘_adjusted_’ himself with a wink, using a spare arm to run his fingers through his hair. You weren’t as amused though, the spider only scowling after a moments awkwardness.

“Well, whatever, ‘yer no fun,” he huffed with a shrug of his shoulders, “‘yer loss.”  
It took awhile for you to even stand. Every inch of your frame shaking uncontrollably as it settled in; this was your new home and if your experiences were anything to go by—

You swallowed. The thought of sleep was nearly irresistible; silently, you attempted to creep away. Perhaps it would be best if you went to bed early and never woke up again.

This Hotel would _surely_ lead to your demise.

“And where do you think _you’re_ going, my dear?” The harsh crackle of static caught you off guard as you were confronted by the radio demon. His grin grew in intensity, you yourself shrinking back from how he leered over you intimidatingly.

You felt nauseated, a frown beginning to form at the base of your lips. “Wouldn’t you care to stay a little longer?” He tilted his head to the side.

“I-" you cut yourself off, “-I just don’t have an appetite right now, so if you’ll _excuse_ me-" you gave a nervous laugh, half-hearted as you side-stepped away from his demanding presence.

He didn’t move, only watching you in curiosity as you retreated from the scene.


	7. The Longevity of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here’s another chapter— still expect a new one this Friday too, though! Also, be sure to join our discord if you’d like to discuss the series itself, the book, or even just stop by for a quick chat!: [https://discord.gg/XgXkrD4 ](https://discord.gg/XgXkrD4) 🍎
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE
> 
> credit: alligator, HandMonsters, NotBrooke

You woke up in a cold sweat.

It was a dreamless sleep, something that you couldn’t remember-- ironic for your case. It was a voidless expanse that had kept you safe from those that went bump in the night; a security you had not known in a long time. You had sought out your sleep with determination, and it had swept over you like a shadow; precise, knowing, welcoming. At last, you were offered some sort of relief from the stress of your day. Nevertheless, you now sat upon your sheets, sticky from your sweat, drenched, uncomfortable. 

Kicking the quilt off of you, you combed your hand through your hair: a hiss escaping your lips as your hand got entangled in a knot. Right, of course there would be knots when you were dead. This was Hell, after all. Pulling your hand out the same way it had gone in, you gave a heavy sigh, and letting your feet touch the floor. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable, you grimaced as you stretched, but it did its job well enough. The floor was cold, but you managed to tough it out.

The floorboards creaked with each step you took, some sturdier than others, some weaker and louder. Other than that, it was the first time you had actually gotten a good look at the room. There was a red rug that expanded at the foot of your bed, random designs integrated around the texture of it. It was soft, plush— it made you want to curl your toes in it. Despite the temptation, you refrained from doing so. Still, you stood upon it. 

The room, despite the slightly uncomfortable bed and the creaky floorboards, was absolutely gorgeous. If not a bit bright for your liking but nevertheless something that made you feel…entitled. It looked like it was something out of the Victorian Era, and no doubt would cost a pretty penny. 

The bed covers itself were thick; fluffed and primed, a deep maroon with diluted red pillows. Red was a common theme around here, you suddenly realized. There was an intricate wooden frame, dark wood that had carvings within it: you turned around, hesitating to brush your fingers along it as if you hadn’t already slept in what it supported. The smallest of smiles appeared upon your lips. 

The room itself had the same wallpaper as the rest of the interior of the Hotel, not that you minded, of course. You were more in awe that you had been so tired you hadn’t realized the sheer wonder of a simple hotel room. For the moment, all of your worries and woes were gone; only to be replaced with wonder. There was a sense of responsibility that flooded your body as you took a look around further. The closet was smaller, more adequate to fit a simpler wardrobe; and hopeful, you opened it. 

There was nothing inside. You really needed to get more clothes. These, you looked down at the shirt you were wearing: it smelled of ash and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your attention soon fluttered to another door separate to the one that you knew exited the room. Walking over, you twisted the knob; even the knob itself was a golden color. 

Whether it was real or not was up to later interpreting. Hell seemed to have the same basic fundamentals of what was found on Earth, you guesswith . Then again, perhaps everything was made on a whim. You didn’t complain. You allowed the door to swing open, eyebrows rising as it led to an extravagant bathroom. There was a tub, laced with white and red roses; as well as a walk in shower. Of course, there was a toilet as well as a sink, but you brushed them off to immediately explore your surroundings more. 

_You knew immediately what you were going to do._

Making sure everything was there and wouldn’t disappear on you, you stripped and stepped into the shower. A yelp echoed as you turned it on- a stream of ice cold water electrifying your skin. Well, maybe you had been a bit too eager. Turning the knob, you set it on the right temperature, it transitioning rather quickly which you were relieved about. Standing in the corner, naked and freezing, was never good for anyone. You stood under the shower head, closing your eyes and letting the water drown your thoughts and dampen your hair. 

The shampoo was first, and you took a dollop of it in your hand before spreading it through your hair. You felt… safe, confined in the space of warm water and something-smelling shampoo. You weren’t sure what it was, but boy did it smell nice. You rinsed that out and turned to the conditioner, before finally shaving. 

Upon stepping out of the shower, you felt relieved. Giddy. Determined. The past events had not yet clicked in your mind as you ran off this high of just being clean. It felt as if you were committing a sin by getting back into the same pair of clothes. You were now desperate to get some new ones, though you would need some sort of cash, wouldn’t you? 

You looked down at the pile of clothes with a frown, before finally deciding to stay in your towel for a moment and comb your hair. Everything was laid out as if the bathroom itself had been expecting you. You recalled Niffty telling you that she would be the one cleaning the upstairs; so you supposed you had her to thank for leaving it completely spotless. Just as you were about to finish combing your hair, a knock resounded from the door outside, before another in quick succession. 

And then, before you could even put the brush down, the door flew open and a blur of pink, white, and yellow raced towards you. 

“What’re you _doing!?_ Oh my gosh, you can’t be late on your first real day on the job! _Come on!_” By the time your brain had registered that it was in fact Niffty, you were already being dragged out of the bathroom, through the bedroom and right down the hallway. _“Niffty!”_ You yelled, digging your heels into the ground to slow her down. For such a tiny girl, she possessed a strength that was entirely inhuman. At last, despite the rug burn on your feet, she stopped, a singular wide eye looking up at you as if to ask ‘what?’.

And then it trailed down your form. 

“Oh no, that won’t do.” She pointed, a sneer on her face. It was perhaps the quietest you had ever heard her, a whisper mostly to herself before suddenly you were being dragged back to your room. Upon reaching the door, she ushered you in hastily: “Come on, there’s no time to waste!” A hesitant, amused smile at her antics crossed your face for the briefest of moments as she tapped her foot impatiently, with the speed in which it blurred. 

Closing the door, you walked over to the bathroom and put on the shirt, pants, socks, and tie your sneakers that had been given to you by Charlie; stating that she didn’t need them anymore. They were worn down, but not enough for you to be desperate for a new pair. It was better than the risk of walking on sharp glass with just socks on. 

As you reopened the door and stepped out, there was a small ‘come on!’ that you barely heard, because it was from down the hall. And there she was, bouncing up and down as if she couldn’t wait to start cleaning. She waited for you to catch up to her, in the meantime dusting the railing and other things that she had somehow missed. Picking up your pace, you met her halfway, stifling a yawn with your hand as you followed her down the steps. Niffty must have been working overtime, especially after the shenanigans of yesterday, for even the railings were smooth and shiny. You walked down the stairs slowly, noting how everyone was already awake and dousing each other in conversation.

There was Angel Dust, who was lounging on the couch with his pet pig (the name was something you had forgotten), the red morning light trickling in with a sinister welcome. Vaggie was sitting at the furthest end, eyeing… you followed her gaze, pausing as you noted that Charlie and Alastor were chatting about something that you could only grab bits and pieces about. Upon your entrance, he turned his attention from the rosy-cheeked woman, eyeing you with something akin to a mixture of silent impishness and curiosity. 

Your broom, now without the jacket and hat, was situated against the railing at the bottom; so without further ado, you made your way down the rest of the flight of stairs.

There was a crackling in the air that reminded you of radio silence, but it was too soft for you to actually take notice. “Hello, valued employee!” The chipper voice of Charlie pulled you away from your silent observations. Turning around, your broom now in your hand, you tossed her a small smile. “Hi Charlie,” you greeted in an oddly friendly manner; perhaps it was because her own happiness was contagious. She looked as if she were ready to strike up a conversation, but she caught someone’s eye--you assumed Vaggie’s—and excused herself. 

You barely had time to start your duties before the tell-tale sound of someone else approaching caught your attention. At the moment, you could not base who it was strictly by the sounds they made when they walked; no doubt something that would be a subconscious thing you learned within time: the feeling of dread creeping up on your shoulder made you second guess it was Niffty or anyone that was a welcomed presence. “Good morning, my friend!” You visibly jumped, your determined and spunky outlook on the day diminishing in a millisecond. 

_Why did it have to be him?_

You dreaded the conversation immediately, already looking for a way out before you finally found what remaining courage you had stored within you to turn around. There was a lingering sensation of dread as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze; his grin extending from ear to ear, only eliciting a forced, meager smile from you. “Sleep well?” He was quite sure you didn’t, simply by the dark circles under your eyes; but that didn’t mean he couldn’t point it out. He seemed pleased when you narrowed your eyes; and it became clear to you that his only intention there had been to get a rise out of you; his eyes crinkling at the ends before he continued on: “Well, I sure hope you did! Because there is a _LOT_ of work to do today!” he laughed, and you felt like it was almost targeted at you because he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. 

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t. Instead, you watched him snap his fingers and low and behold, a neatly folded paper found its way into his palm. 

Prideful and expectant, he held it out to you, which you took. Opening it up, it rolled out of itself, down upon the floor and curling around your feet once. Your face lost its complexion, blood draining. There was an assortment of ambience in the room whenever he was in it; and now that he was as close as he was, and the sheer amusement you could just feel oozing off of him in waves; you noted an audience laugh that was riddled with static and something that reminded you of an old radio being tuned into station. 

Your eyes scanned the list frantically, thankfully, a lot of it was mainstream things that you supposed you would do any day of the week: dust the counters, make sure the floors are polished, and an array of other things. Only noticing that Niffty had now joined you and had picked up the list from the bottom, you felt a frown deepen your expression. This was a week’s worth of work right here, and he was expecting you to do it in a day? 

You felt him lean in, his odd ambience distorted further into something ominous, fragments of pleasant music splayed within the distortion. You look up-- he towered over you — his large, impish smile greeting your disbelief and agitation with amusement. “_Best get started,_” he lowered his voice, the sounds only growing more twisted as the hairs along your neck began to stand on end. Your instincts told you to get the fuck away from him right then and there.

You side-stepped away, before tearing your gaze away. “Come on, Niffty.” Your words were strained, clearing your throat as you took the list and began the back-breaking were you were more than sure you were in store for. She took your hand and skipped forward, a grin on her face as if she were truly excited for the day to begin. You, however, were only dreading it, and it had barely begun.

The first two hours had been to the point well enough, sweeping away the impurities and rubble that the blast in the wall had made. Bricks that had lost their structure were put in a large bag, while Niffty worked on stacking the bricks and lathering them with cement. What she couldn’t reach, you helped with, in which you would receive a curtsy. At first it had caught you off-guard, so you released a laugh before you could hide it. 

She beamed up at you: “Between you and I-” You stacked one final brick before turning to face her, hands on your hips and an eyebrow raised. “I don’t think us ladies should be doing this! It’s a _man’s job_.” She whispered, leaning forward with a hand at the side of her face as if she were telling you a secret before looking over her shoulder to look at Husker at the bar, who was downing a bottle of liquor, and then to Alastor. He was lounging on the couch, his shit eating grin almost relaxed as he conversed with the commoners. 

Your fist clenched. 

“Mopping and dusting and-” she rambled on, stating different things that sounded far more fetching that building up a wall that had been blown to smithereens. You let out a heavy sigh, wiping off a bead of sweat from your head. “Well, we’re done with the wall, just have to let it dry and _then_ we can paint it.” She was giddy, her energy absolutely unending. “Oh! I love painting, but it _does_ get messy! So we have to get you an apron and gloves and oh man!” She was now skidding off to another corner of the room before she even finished her thought. 

A snuffling sound caught your attention quickly, followed by a gleeful little oink, before turning to see the last thing you wanted. There was Angel’s pig, standing in the wet cement pan. “H-hey...” You began walking over to it, trying your best to keep the pig in the pan so it didn’t trek wet cement throughout the polished floors.

_“FAT NUGGETS~!”_

For the second time that day, the blood drained from your face as you watched the pig immediately dart towards Angel Dust who had been searching for his pet to feed it. 

Oh, fuck.

You watched helplessly as it trekked hoofprints throughout the hotel, your hands immediately going to your hair and fisting it as if you were ready to rip it out. You had just finished polishing that spot. The thought of turning the pig into bacon wasn’t the first thought that crossed your mind as you watched the spider demon pick it up and start cuddling, ignoring the fact that he was getting wet cement all over himself.

“Oh, what a _shame_.” You just about jumped ten feet in the air, whipping your head so quickly to the side you nearly gave yourself whiplash. There he was, standing right next to you casually as if he had been having a friendly conversation just a moment ago. Except, he had not been; he had been nowhere near you to get there without you noticing. “Better start again,” he grinned down at you like the asshole he was, and you felt your lungs inhale an absolutely enormous breath as if you were ready to throw down right then and there. 

He looked smug, hands behind his back as he watched you storm off. Shaking his head, he looked over to the bar: “Ah, Husker! My good friend--!” there was a loud groan and a ‘_fuck off_’ in the background.

Just as you were about to pick up the cleaning supplies again, you heard your name being called gently, only for you to turn around again. Charlie. Her mouth was pulled in an understanding smile, and it nearly made you breathe out a sigh of relief because you knew she wasn’t here to badger you for something else. Alastor already seemed to have that under control well enough for you to actually consider second-degree murder. Taking your hand, you scrunched up your eyebrows as she led you to the hallway and into a spare guest room.

There, she let go of your hand and walked towards the bed, sitting atop of it and patting next to her. After some confusion, you swallowed your uncertainty and sat next to her. For a long moment there was silence, “It’s hard down here, as I’m sure you can already see...” She gave a half-hearted laugh, but you could tell that there was some sadness in her tone. Was this supposed to be a heart-to-heart? Whatever it was, you drank up the information eagerly. “To survive down here, you need to _adapt_.” She paused, glancing over at you. 

Charlie hesitated for a moment, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re going to get pushed to the brink, you’re _going_ to be humiliated.” A pause for a breath, and then she retracted her hand. “If there’s one thing my dad has taught me, it’s that you don’t take shit from other demons!” She mocked his voice, in which you returned the same half-hearted smile she had tossed to you earlier. But it didn’t last long, your eyes drifting to the quilt that was as equally fluffy as your own. You felt cold, sick, a weight on your shoulders as you held her trusting gaze. You felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“Charlie, I-” you cut yourself off, looking up at her with a teary gaze. She was surprised, to say the least.

“I lied to you.”

The words left your lips faster than you could stop them from spilling the truth, soft, embarrassed. It felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders; her eyebrows were now risen in curiosity and confusion. Shifting yourself, you sat cross-legged on the bed, facing her completely now. “I… I don’t remember anything. I don’t _remember_ why I’m here, what I did, what _happened_ to me, how I died, how I-” 

You were rambling now, tears blurring your vision until you closed them, letting them escape and stream down your face. “It’s okay.” Charlie hadn’t ever met someone who couldn’t remember, but she was entirely certain she would have plenty more experiences; the new souls were seemingly infinite, and it only increased the population of Hell. 

“I opened this Hotel in hopes to rehabilitate sinners and give them a second chance. After death, the finality of it, just seems unfair to me! I feel like everyone should have the chance to _redeem_ themselves, y’know?” She looked over at you, and you gave her a strained smile, wiping away your salty tears.

“It’s _okay_ you don’t remember. You can even consider yourself lucky, you have a second chance of becoming someone you want to be, without strings attached. Other demons would kill for the chance to forget.” But that answer didn’t satisfy you. You wanted to know; you couldn’t sit around and not know who you were. You wouldn’t lie, though, the fact that she wasn’t mad at you did make you feel better. She must have seen your expression, since she pulled your face up with a single finger under your chin, and smiled at you in an understanding way. 

“But if it helps, you and Angel can go out tomorrow and get yourself some clothes in your style. While you’re out, you can see if anything rings a bell.” Your eyes widened, your heart lurching as she pulled out a plastic card that was golden and handed it to you. Inscribed on it was your first name, along with ‘Staff of Hazbin Hotel’. A credit card? You looked up from it with a questioning look. “What? You thought you wouldn’t get paid?” She looked off to the side with a shrug, and then you did the thing you never thought you would do down here.

You hugged her. 

She was surprised, that much was for sure— it took her a moment to react, but once she did, she hugged you back with a strength that you imagined would break all your ribs if you had been alive.

Today had been bleak, but tomorrow could hold something… happier. You smiled at the thought, eyeing the golden card as it gleamed in the hotel room lights.

_“Thank you.”_


	8. Pleasant Unpleasantries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments we have been recieving and we hope you continue to enjoy the story.
> 
> Now, without further ado...
> 
> Chapter 8!

This wasn’t fair.

You groaned, trailing off and wiping down a particular part of the posh floorboard for the _third_ time that afternoon. You didn’t understand what the issue was, but according to _Alastor_ they needed a bit more…_shine;_ nothing was ever good enough for that pompous fool, was it? — your previously clean shirt had been ruined by the seemingly perpetual hours of labor you and your small companion had been doing.

The endless stream of the to-do list partnered with the haunty nature of the _Radio Demon’s_ elegant handwriting brought you anguish. The mere thought of that annoying smile drew your frustration to a close as you exhaled sharply through your nose, drawing Niffty’s attention from dusting a nearby cupboard.

The bright ocular of her eye finds its way to an open window, dusk hardly beginning to grace the features of the sky with its dark ambience; the little thing turns to you, her eye crinkling in slight nervousness at your expression.

“You know, you can take a break if you’re feeling tired,” she said meekly. Your eyebrows knitted together at her tone. Perhaps she felt a little uneasy thinking she’d pushed you to overexertion, too easily caught up in her own list of responsibilities to pay attention to both your dwindling energy and patience.

You look at her fondly, “I think we both deserve a break considering the amount of cleaning we’ve done,” Niffty perks up at the mention of a break before shrugging gingerly.

“I can go for the rest of the evening and some more! Cleaning is something I’m made _for_, not for taking these ‘breaks’ you speak of!” Chuckling as she huffed dramatically, you reach out to ruffle her vibrant and kempt hair, purposely messing it up to elicit a reaction out of the darling.

“_Heeey!_” She whines, shooting you a rather adorable frown.

You step back to leave and she watches as you go, waving your retreating figure a goodbye as you make your way downstairs into the lobby to cash in the _break_ you very well deserved.

_Your wonderful, well-deserved break. No cleaning, no shining, no strings attached._

What more could you possibly desire? That being said, you were alerted to the sound of voices; carried through the lobby by some unknown origin. Some part of you couldn’t help but wish for complete peace, but that was a laughable feat. Peace, down _here?_

Nevertheless, that didn’t mean you couldn’t take the initiative and _try_.

Husker was at his usual post, your eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds before he took it upon himself to take another swing of his drink- slouching against the counter with the obvious intent of avoiding socialisation. Alastor was noticeably absent, a relief, as you could almost feel the ghost of his static-laced voice prick at your skin and leave goosebumps in its wake. The longer he was absent the _better_. You intended to _enjoy_ your break, after all.

What you hadn’t realised was that you’d already been spotted.

“_You’ve finished early today!_” Immediately you recognised it as Charlie’s voice. With a spin on your heel, you turned to see both her and a familiar spider sitting on the couch, the arachnid demon leaning back on his arm as he tipped his head back to see you. His attention soon returning to Charlie as she rose, making for your side to greet you with a smile.

“_Sooo,_” she began, rocking on the balls of her feet, “are you ready to do some shopping?” Honestly, it’d slipped your mind that she’d suggested you do that, maybe even bring back some memories. The enthusiasm that welled up up within you was soon dampened however.

“I’m just on a break,” you admitted sheepishly, “I don’t have the time to go shopping but I’ll do it later!” There was even some optimism sprinkled in at the end, Charlie’s contagious smile having infected you. She wasn’t best pleased by your statement though, pursing her lips as she idly puffed out a cheek.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” She hummed - her fond smile soon returning as she lifted a hand to her chest and declared with the utmost authority: “In fact, as your _manager_, I hereby grant you the rest of the day off!” It wasn’t long before she added to her statement, saying it was ‘mandatory’ that you get some fresh air and have some fun, on top of getting yourself a new attire.

“Oh, that’s right!” She exclaimed suddenly, her hands meeting as she aimed her positivity at the spider that was still slouching on the couch. “Angel Dust, could you please accompany her? - you’d be the _perfect_ guide, you could get to know each other better!”

“Huh?” He choked; clearly he hadn’t been told about your shopping trip.

“_Pleeease Angel!_ You know it’s good to-”

“Yeah yea I know, it’s good ‘ta help people n’ all.” He sighed, finding yourself transfixed as you watched him rise; it was easy to forget how tall he was when he was sitting down. He easily dwarfed Charlie and yourself - although you couldn’t help but feel a tad anxious that he wasn’t really that interested in going with you due to his lack of motivation and _drugs_.

“Maybe you can pick up something nice for yourself too Angel!” Charlie chirped, the demon in question’s eyes lighting up as he shrugged a shoulder.

“Maybe you could get matching jumpers!”

“Ohhh no,” Angel Dust chuckled nervously, arms out in an attempt to soothe her raging joy, “I think yer pushin’ things a bit too much there toots, but sure, I’ll tag along.” He flashed you a smile as he leant to the side, each pair of arms folded around himself.

“Guess it’s just you and me then huh? _Unless_,” he shot up a hand, waving towards the bar, “Husker hun, fancy comin’ along on a shopping trip?” 

Charlie notably winced at the slurry of insults soon thrown Angel Dust’s way, the spider dashing over to the bar in an attempt to convince the moody demon to ‘lighten up’ and ‘live a little’. There was a grunt as the drunk moved to the other side of the bar’s counter, only to take yet _another_ swig of his cheap booze. You wouldn’t lie, it was a tempting thought to drown yourself in your sorrows like he was doing in this exact moment, and every other moment of the day.

But that was just a bit too bold, even for you.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality, turning your attention back to Charlie; her warm smile contrasted the melancholy in her eyes.

“Make sure you have fun won’t you? Don’t stress yourself out thinking you _have_ to find something to do with your past. I know it frustrates you but…” she let out a sigh, picking herself up, “you need to take some time for yourself in the present.” She reminded you of an older sister of sorts with how she moseyed her way into your affairs.

You nod, offering her your thanks as you brought your other hand to your shoulder, giving her hand a squeeze before parting ways.

First, you had to retrieve your new travelling companion, then you could finally get out of the clothes you’d been wearing for around half a week. And maybe, if you were lucky, you could find _something_ that would explain as to why you were in Hell.

The curvature of the entrance’s cathedral ceilings were breathtaking as you departed from the main lobby, watching the ageless, ancient columns and intricately crafted stained glass windows disappear behind the heavy door of the hotel. Angel followed suit, even as Charlie watched you two depart into the fading burgundy hues of dusk.

“So, you’ve never really been outside the hotel, eh? Save maybe for a coupla locations nearby?” Your tall companion inquired, leaning over your much smaller form to grant you an exceedingly dangerous smile; a raise of his eyebrows to match.

You nodded, eagerly inspecting your new surroundings with a curious glance and a careful composure. “Didn’t want to cause trouble for myself,” you explained simply. The answer seemed to satiate whatever curiosity had been brewing in his mind.

Approaching the more urban environment, the sightings of demons had gone from light, hardly even noteworthy — to a densely populated metropolitan neighborhood. You were impressed that a group of what were essentially barbarians could operate in a civilized, or at least _semi-structured_ way. Despite them being literal hooligans, they had at the very minimal _some_ form of hierarchy or compensation system; a foundation of civilization.

A flurry of thoughts rampaged through your head: do they have a government? What is their political system like? Who’s running the damn place?

In your mentally inebriated state, Angel took a look around, subtle about the way he gazed at a few shady passerbys. He knew this part of town well, afterall, he could tell just by how the _porn studios_ were angled. After a dawning moment of elongated silence, he snapped his attention back over to you, just as you began to walk past him.

“Hello, _hello?_” He asked rudely, loudly, waving a few hands in front of your face to snap you out of whatever daze you were in. Angel sighed, irritated, “Do ‘ya even know where ‘yer goin’?”

“Nope.” You clarified.

“Do ‘ya even know where we _are?_” He dead-panned, his expression turning grim in awaiting your _probably stupid_ answer.

“Uh, well...” You trailed, an impish smile on your lips. He narrowed his eyes.

“_Oh fuck - why me?_” Rubbing his temples, he spared you a tired glance before groaning. A singular appendage raised to brush his hair back. Charlie had told him that you had barely any knowledge of the terrain of Hell, if any at all; _still_, he wasn’t expecting you to be that clueless on the geography.

And despite everything he had done for the Hotel so far (which wasn’t much), he still had to drag a newbie around.

Just great.

In the end, there was no point feeling bummed out - being a ‘_good person_’ came with perks and Charlie had said it herself, he should pick up a little something for himself.

“Oh hey, look.” He was pulled out of his selfish thoughts when you stopped moving. He looked back, eyebrows furrowing even further before realizing they were standing in front of a large glass window, a perfectly lit exhibit of various clothing hanging in a pleasing fashion. The store, considering its location and general characteristics - seemed classy, though retaining an air of pompsity that was the least bit enticing.

You exchange a glance with him before pulling on the handle; a singular bell chime announcing your arrival; the scent reminding you of an old book store and old spices that brought nostalgic memories to those who entered - it was that warm, welcoming type of feeling that couldn’t help but make you feel comfortable.

It made you feel more comfortable than your own room at the Hotel.

Taking in a deep breath, you allowed your hands to begin to trail upon the fabrics that just had to be expensive. A popular commodity seemed to be satin, specifically in varying shades of red and pink - silk, dresses and even lingerie were presented in a lovely fashion. Whomever owned the place surely took great care of their stock, ensuring it was clean and very beautiful to merely browse.

You smiled softly. At least there are some wholesome creatures here.

“Ya thinkin’ of gettin’ that?” Angel pointed at the very revealing lingerie; a snooty laugh erupting from behind you. Your face began to heat up in such a quick manner that you were sure it would have melted off if it had gotten any hotter.

“No!” You insisted, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear in an attempt to soothe your fraying nerves.

He rolled his eyes. “Not like ya’d have anyone ta’ show anyways.” You clenched the silk in your palm, focusing on the fine details for a moment longer.

“At least I don’t need to find a new outfit every night to get _laid._” You grinned to yourself, and a guffaw was sounded from behind you. _Gottem._ For the first time in a while, you genuinely grinned, sauntering past him with the lingerie in your hand. Standing on your tippy-toes, you lowered your voice:

“... and anyway, how do _you_ know I don’t have someone to show it to?” He glanced down at you with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t, of course, but now that you had a shiny new credit card that was probably made of _literal gold_, you were going to buy it simply out of spite.

You searched around the quaint store, catching sight of some small shopping baskets near the entrance. Quickly, you snatched one and proceeded to casually stroll through the aisles with a rather quiet spider in tow - you’d grown a particular fondness for the clothing displayed so proudly in the front window, possibly leaving with the garments fueled the small semblance of happiness that you carried.

You shot a look towards Angel. His back was turned and he was busying himself by indescretly narrowing his eyes at any article he felt worthy of his critique, perhaps still a little steamed from the previous engagement you two had.

You didn’t feel bad.

“Yer lookin’ for clothes right? This might look good on ya, I reckon.” You jumped in surprise as your eyes found the thoughtful expression he held, two arms holding a rather cute formal attire, not unlike Charlie’s.

Quirking an eyebrow at this new development, you just motioned to your basket that was quickly brimming with new items to try. He walked over and threw the outfit uncaringly into the basket as well. “I wonder if there’s a changing room, y’know?” You hummed, putting a finger to your chin and tapping it thoughtfully. It didn’t take you long to catch the sight of a scaly demon at the front desk.

A small, hunched over old woman sat at the front of the establishment, humming and arranging an array of dedicant candied apples near the front window for all to see.

Your eyes nearly bulged at the sight of such a pure scene, causing you to question if you were truly in _Hell_.

The sweet alligator’s tail swished around, obviously satisfied with her superior decor skills. She turns, her small and kind eyes falling onto her newest customers, prompting a delighted grin to be strewn across her features.

“Oh, visitors!” She chimed excitedly, placing her claws together in sheer bliss, “I apologize for not coming to greet you, as you can see I was… having a little aesthetic issue.” Mumbling, the gator found your full shopping basket and she perked up.

“_Oh dear_, you’re looking for the changing rooms, aren’t you?” She pointed a claw to the back of the store where two (rather hard to see) changing rooms stood, “They’re over there, honey. Now… if you need any help don’t hesitate to fetch me.” The adorable woman sighed, content with her existence in this twisted place, _happy_ even.

You turned away, disbelief gracing your own features as you attempted to hide the utter shock you were experiencing.

“Whatcha’ waiting for there toots?” Angel Dust huffed; half leant over with a cocky smile. “See something else ya like or are ya too _chicken_ to try on _that._” When he flicked his finger towards the basket you knew immediately what he was referring to, the spider attempting to get the better of you, but oh no, you weren’t going to let him. Nose stuck in the air, you strode past Angel in all you confidence.

“No, I was just thinking about how beautiful I’d look.”

He only smirked in retort, watching your figure retreat into the stalls to prove your bold claims; He could hear you rummaging in your wide range of selections followed by some mumbling...

He leant on the side of the stalls boredly, nothing quite catching his eye, only the quaint humming of the alligator accompanied him. He wasn’t known to be a patient spider, and the itch of mischief was beckoning him ever so sweetly — crossing his arms in an attempt of restraint, but failing miserably, he finally gave in to the lingering temptation of the familiar delight.

Your thoughts clouded your mind as you inspected the massive pile of clothes stacked in your basket, most of which were courtesy of Angel himself; _odd_, he apparently had some sort of taste for fashion or aesthetic, who knows. That spider was damn quirky, lest even queer.

A shuffle caused your astute hearing to urge you to gaze upwards and you had just caught sight of a pair of eyes that you were very much acquainted with.

They fled quickly and you recognized Angel’s prodding gaze, the familiarity of those beady little eyes made you want to shove your hand through the fine wooden wall and strangle his scrawny neck.

“Angel?” you asked sweetly.

“Yes?” he replied, perhaps twice as sweet, accompanied with an undertone of smugness. Your blood pressure spiked.

“If I catch you peeping on me again, there will be consequences.” trying to sound ominous, you clenched a hanger and weighed the option of using it as a weapon.

The arachnid was silent and you felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you, taking this moment to actually look in the mirror and—

So that’s why Angel was so keen on peeping, huh?

“Lookin’ good there, toots.” Came a giggle from above and a hanger was launched at his stupid face and he barely dodged in. A part of you couldn’t help but agree that you looked damn good in that lingerie, even you had only wanted to purchase out of spite.

“Was that a compliment?” You teased back, your grin dwarfing your impish smile only a moment ago. “I think I’ll get it,” you hummed softly to yourself, running your hand against your side. It fit nice, looked nice. Whether you would ever wear it outside of this stall was another question entirely; the mere thought made your gut clench in a mixture of uncertainty and excitement.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just hurry up, will ya?” There was a wave of his hand that you could visibly see simply from his height alone. Squinting your eyes at the back of his head, you began to take off the lingerie and trying on a more passive outfit. There were black leggings that you pulled up, snapping them around your waist, before putting on a white shirt that was loose fitting but just snug enough for it to not look _sloppy_ and _unkempt._

It was comfortable, and truly, you couldn’t care less about ‘keeping up to standards’. There were a few other pairs of clothing of the same size in a different variety of colors, but since you liked this, you supposed it wouldn’t hurt to just buy them all.

“Okay.” You mused, opening up the stall door - Angel Dust stood an appropriate distance in comparison to where he’d been before. He waggled a hanger in your face which you quickly snatched. “All done.”

“Let’s ditch this joint - I wanna make a pit stop before we head back to the hotel.” When you’d asked what this ‘pit stop’ was he merely stuck his tongue between his teeth with a wink. You narrowed your eyes. It certainly made the mind wander; but you didn’t mind, whatever it was, _probably_ wasn’t important. Approaching the counter, you were greeted by the same sweet smile once more.

“Everything fits perfectly then, I take it dearie?” The alligator hummed. You nod - handing her the basket, offering her a matching smile as she busied herself with the checkout.

“It did, thank you!” You chirped, still in disbelief that beings such as herself existed in Hell. Charlie must have been right about only ‘perfect’ individuals ascending to Heaven. Although, you couldn’t help but feel your face burn as she lifted the lingerie from the basket; the wry look she cast you causing your body to stiffen. At least Angel couldn’t see your expression, almost able to _hear_ his self-entitled laughter in your head.

“Do you two lovebirds have anything else planned for this evening then?”

You nearly died, _again._

“HUH?” The choked spilt from Angel almost instantly, you yourself twice as red as you had been before. He certainly didn’t aid the situation as he materialised by your side, a hand against the counter with another on your head like you were some sort of ragdoll - any spare hand used to point at you.

“Y-you-” he released a guffaw, “you think I’m with her?” You wished you could just disappear right then and there.

“Nah - nada lady, no way in a million years. I’m her babysitter not her fuckin’ boytoy.” The alligator chortled merrily to herself, more amused than ever.

“My apologies, you just look so cute together.” Angel’s face contorted into shriveled disgust, but she was quick to save herself. “Here.” You both blinked idly. It took a couple of seconds to click what she was offering you.

Candied apples.

“Take them,” she soothed, “on the house, for my two wondeful customers.” You weren’t as quick to take yours; Angel Dust’s eyes glimmered in delight as he admired the reflective (and delicious) surface. Any resentment that had been felt towards the old alligator was seemingly forgotten.

“Thank you.” You managed, fingers curling around the stick as you took your bag as well. Your foot soon made contact with Angel’s, the spider nearly dropping his treat with a sharp hiss and a ‘whaddya do that for!?’ - although, he soon caught on as you nod your head in the alligator’s direction.

“Ah, yeah, sure - thanks lady.”

It was settled. If things didn’t work out at the hotel, then you were going to work there. Hell, if you kept getting the amount of work you were now you might just quit in protest anyway. You couldn’t do that to Charlie though, or Angel after he’d not only taken you to Hotel when you first arrived, but the store as well without much complaint. Speaking of Angel, the arachnid skipped ahead of you merrily.

Whatever pit stop you were going to make, he was certainly excited.


	9. Truth Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh yet another chapter in such a short amount of time - Alastor's really got us on overtime but we're here to bring you another, fantastic installment!

By the time you both left the shop, he let go of the desire to keep a slow pace for your short-legged self.

“C’mon sugartits, almost there now!” He looked as if he were on cloud nine itself. As for you, keeping up with him was proving to be a difficult task. One second he was there, the next he’d vanished around a corner.

“_Angel!_” You called out. “Wait up!” Picking up the pace, you jogged around the corner - coming to a grinding halt just as you had. Angel was leant over, lower limbs against his hips as he playfully tapped a button on a vending machine.

“_Boop!_” He chirped - reaching inside the machine. A scowl tugging his lips into a fine line. “_Damn it_, don’t tell me it’s stuck.” Your attention had wandered from Angel and the vending machine to a group of demons further down the alley. You must have been in the store for awhile, as the red hues of the sky had deepened considerably, only aiding your paranoia. You’d made direct eye contact with one of them which wasn’t an issue in itself _until_ the whole group suddenly turned to glare at you.

“_Goddamnit!_” Angel hadn’t noticed, too busy kicking the machine (an action that had you nearly jump out of your skin), “gimme my damn drugs you money eatin’ pile of _shit!_” He’d fastened his hands along its sides, all but the hand he used to hold his candied apple, shaking the machine in a crazed attempt to get out what you now knew were drugs. He was meant to be clean but - you couldn’t care less about what he was doing as you nervously glanced towards the group of demons again.

“Angel…” you muttered, the demon too busy shouting obscenities at the metal box to hear. “_Angel._” You tried again to no avail.

“_ANGEL!_” You barked, tone hushed but stern.

“_WHAT!?_” He was much louder - your face drained of color at how he seemed to tower over you, a frantic look to his eye as his silhouette was cast against reddening sky. “Can’t ya see I’m busy!” He huffed out in an annoyed manner.

“You need a mechanic?” The gruff voice that spoke made your insides churn; Angel raising an eyebrow at the stranger as he spun around. There stood the origin of the sound, a demon that was clad in a deep purple color, standing a bit too close to Angel to give perspective as to how small he was. Just a bit shorter than you in fact, just passing your shoulder in height; the spider dwarfing him as he looked down in indifference.

“If the machines not working I can get it to give you as much as _you want._”

“Oh _really?_” Angel growled - chomping down on the remains of the candied apple in his hand and sprinkling the demon with little shards of crystallized sugar. The demon winced - lips drawn back into a snarl.

“_Really._ You’ve just gotta hand over a bit of cash first.” Angel froze, the corners of his lips tugged into a strained smile.

“_And what if I don’t got any?_”

“Don’t get smart with me - I’m not blind bitch, I _know_ you have money and if you don’t hand it over then I’ll have to get rough with you.” The longing sigh that passed Angel’s lips didn’t reassure you that the situation had any chance of improving.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” He muttered idly, the other demon not amused by the I arachnids antics.

“Look - I don’t like beating up girls, so how about you just hand over your money and you and your lil’ pal can just go home, alright?” You were standing behind Angel Dust now. Fear compelled you to move even closer as you saw the shadows slink around you - his associates. With the snap of the ‘bosses’ fingers they’d approached. Angel hung his head back with an irritated groan.

“Ya have _no_ idea how many times I’ve heard that one before.” He sighed, shaking his head as he folded his arms across his chest; twizzling the once apple-bearing stick between his fingers. “So, we gonna get physical or not?” The demon had clearly had enough of Angel’s attitude, the silver flash of a knife forced a sense of panic to constrict your lungs.

The shriek that tore through the gang leader’s throat was nothing short of petrifying. He’d hunched over to grab his shoulder, a crimson liquid now seeping freely.

“_Whoopsie!_” Angel chuckled, spinning the now blood-covered candy stick between his digits. “My hand slipped, you were _sayin’ honey?_” The others had all froze in their place as the leader cried out, slumping to the asphalt in a mess as Angel stared in disbelief at the sight before him.

“_Really?_” He gasped. “One _little_ stab and yer cryin’ on the floor like a bitch? Either I’ve outdone myself or yer just as _pathetic_ as you look.” The fear you’d felt only intensified, now aimed in horror at Angel as he swiftly brought his foot down on the demon’s shoulder; the thing now sprawled on the floor as Angel dug his heel into the crook’s flesh.

“Ah!” He exclaimed, whipping his head around with a crooked grin, candy stick aimed at the rest of the group. “Don’t even think about it - not unless ya wanna end up skewered.” They fled, tails between their legs as they went. With a sharp sigh, Angel leant down and picked up the demon beneath his feet, lifted him up...

And slammed him into the vending machine.

He’d hit the jackpot too - greedily collecting the bags that’d fallen from within the damaged machine and stuffing them into his floof; the other demon unconscious (as far as you could tell from his limp form) tossed aside. You gave a concerned glance to the citizen before managing to swallow your worries. _He had it coming._

As if nothing had happened, Angel Dust wrapped an arm around your shoulder and wheeled you out of the alley, your eyes widening.

“Ya know babe,” he huffed, “it feels _so good_ to get rid of that anger.” You were silent, your complexion noticeably more pale, more…_frightened_ than it had been previously; your tall companion, somewhat goofy and enjoyable at the clothing store was now something that evoked fear within you.

“I’ve been itching for some action like that ever since that damn _‘Radio Demon’_ decided to ruin my fun!” He pouted his lips; childishly stomping along. “He’s a total ass! I always see him lurkin’ around but when I try to talk to him - _oh no_ \- you’d think he was celibate or something! Sick fuck _waltzed on in_ and took everything over and now _I have_ to be clean or _Lucifer save me_ I’ll have the damn deer lecturing me like some _kid!_" The jazz hands he did would have been amusing if you’d not just witnessed him violently pummel a demon against a vending machine.

You especially didn’t need the thought of Alastor playing on your mind, a shiver running down your spine, as if the very mention of him would make him appear.

“I don’t care what Vags said, omnipotent whatever - he can go fuck himself-” he continued his rant, elaborating his point further as you continued your trek back to the hotel. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

You hadn’t gone too far, thankfully. Being on your feet all day, including the time you spent _cleaning_, only worked further pain onto them. The thought of sinking into the couch sounded amazing at that point. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you still hadn’t had a decent meal throughout the day. Nevertheless, despite what your _stomach_ told you, your appetite was null; void. It did not exist, especially after what you had just witnessed.

The rest of the walk was silent, and for that you were thankful.

By the time you reached the door to the Hotel, you never felt more relieved. A feeling that you had thought would be near impossible at this point anyway— but it was all you had ever known down here. It was strange to imagine your existence _anywhere else._ Angel opened the door, letting himself in and holding it open with a single hand just long enough for you to push against it before his arm retreated, sinking into his body as if it had never been there before.

“_Oh_, you’re back already!”

It wasn’t a moment too soon that Charlie appeared in front of the two of you, casting you both a beaming, joyful smile. “How was it? Did you have fun?” You paused, looking at her with wide eyes and just before you were about to open your mouth, you felt a limb around your neck, hanging down your shoulder casually.

“Ya _bet!_ I think we had a good ol’ time, wouldn’t you say, _pal?_” He leaned down, giving you an expectant look.

_He was making sure you didn’t run your mouth._

You stared at him for a long moment for returning your gaze to Charlie, offering her two thumbs up. “Yeah!” You offered a nervous laugh, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of your forehead. “I got some new clothes, finally.” You did a quick spin, showing off your new stylish, casual outfit, arms held out from your sides before coming full circle.

“Well, that’s _great!_ Maybe you two can run out and grab some supplies whenever we need it since you make such a great team.” You remained silent, looking up at Angel Dust as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah, _whatever_. I’m goin’ to my room; ya can come with if ya want,” he looked over to you, only to clear his throat. “Not that I care or anythin’” because he didn’t. He just didn’t want to seem _suspicious_. You almost felt obliged to go, not wanting to accidentally spill the beans and end up with a candy apple stick sticking out of your throat. You followed Angel upstairs, the long-legged spider swaying with each step. You could make out the grin that'd sprawled itself shamelessly across his lips from your position.

When you were deep within the confines of the halls, he finally spoke.

“Ya ever done drugs before?” He asked curiously.

“Uh-” that was answer enough, Angel Dust stopping by a door with a simple: ‘_thought so_’. He chuckled at the concern on your face, ‘_reassuring_’ you that he wasn’t going to share with you anyway. With a push, the door opened and you were almost blinded by the abundance of pearly whites within the room. He’d clearly redecorated - although, he had been living there a lot longer.

And that blanket - it didn’t take long before you were fixated with the fluffy exterior. You couldn’t really sit there now anyway, Angel reaching into his fluff and throwing out the contents within onto the bed.

“Close the door!” He chirped, too excited to snap at you as you hastily prevented any wandering eyes from seeing in. “Make yerself at home - just, don’t _touch_ any of my stuff, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” You muttered, too busy taking in every last detail of his room to really pay attention. Coming to a vanity desk surrounded by bright studio lights, you were distracted by your reflection - Angel Dust’s own casually tearing into a bag behind you. It almost felt rude to watch, fiddling with your thumbs as you let him do his thing. Why you’d tagged along, was beyond you, but you were there now - thinking of some way to strike up a conversation.

“Hey Angel,” you began - his eyes wide as he sat with his finger in his mouth, “thanks for coming along today, I appreciate the help. I’m happy you were there… I dunno what I would have done, if you weren’t.” He nearly gagged, poking the same finger that’d been in his mouth at his chest.

“_Me?_” He snorted, the digit now aimed at you. “Help _you?_” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth as if trying to stop the eruption of laughter that followed.

“You think I went with ya to _help you?_” He howled, your grip now vice like against your new attire. “Damn, that’s good. You almost got me.” He wiped away a tear that has sprouted from his laughter. It felt like a hole had opened up within you, sucking out any and all emotion; no joy, not even sadness - you just felt empty. It must have shown on your face, Angel Dust blinking as he felt the reality of your words come crashing down on him. “Oh. Yer serious.”

“_Ouch._” He couldn’t help but giggle; motioning to the array of plastic bags surrounding him, each filled with the same white powder. “I didn’t do nothin’ for nobody but myself.” He lifted one of the parcels, beaming at it like as if it were his only friend. With a stretch, he stood up and slithered over to you.

“Listen, lemme teach ya a little somethin’ about being in Hell,” he began, a hand waved idly as he spoke in an almost dismissive fashion. “It’s every demon for _himself._” The way he told you made it sound like he was reciting common knowledge that you should have known. You narrowed your eyes. A hand reached around your back as he guided you from the seat to the bed so that he could lean against the desk - each finger rolling against its edge.

“And no ones ever gonna have your back,” he sighed, giving you a shrug, “just because you’re ‘friends’.” As you lay down, you noted the writing on a package of the powder.

_ANGEL DUST - SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE: SLURRED SPEECH, BLOODSHOT EYES, UNSTEADY GAIT, INCREASED HEART RATE._

_Did he name himself after the damn drug?_

“Oh no no no…” he giggled, shaking his head as he hugged his waist as he tipped his to the side. “There’s _always_ a catch. Something to soften the deal.”

“Make connections '_worthwhile_’ and all that jazz.” The jazz hands returned as he leant back with a sigh. “It’s dog eat dog…” he trailed off - a broad grin flashing his teeth as his attention found you.

“Damn toots, just take me for example!” He positioned two hands above the peaks of fluff that protruded from his V neck; “I’ve been here long enough to have seen some shit!” He thrust himself from the counter of the vanity desk, approaching you with a crazed look to his bloodshot eyes - the kind he bore when he beat the life from the demon in the alley.

“And I get it-” he huffed, “I really do!” Arms extended in a grandeur fashion. “Hell’s a bitch!” He leered at you as he leant down, face inches from yours as you felt him squish your cheeks roughly.

“And have I laid down and died? Hell no.” He hummed, giving you one final poke on the nose for good measure; adding insult to injury. “If anything, you know…” he leant back, a scowl taking shape on his features.

“I’ve learnt a trick or two about surviving in this cesspit of a place we call home, and I tell ya what, the day I start calling people ‘friend’ is the day I die!” He strode over to his wardrobe and flung the doors wide - buried in it the next second.

“So lemme teach ya a thing or two bud,” he steps into some heels that were strewn about on the floor, gracefully picking up his feet to practically swing himself onto a nearby pole, “because from here on it’ll only be you.”

He’d hung from his legs, grinning at you as he stretched his top set of limbs downwards, the lower pair slithering along his body. You weren’t in the mood for his antics, the hollow cavity in your chest welling with a mixture of spite and sadness.

“This place is a mess and you wanna know why I’m here!?” He cried - gracefully spinning himself round; heels making contact with the ground as he rest a hand against his hip. “Well, it’s not Charlie or the hotel or any ‘friends’!” He barked, irritably storming towards the bed and swiping up his Angel Dust.

“The reason why I’m _here_ is this damn _free_ room,” he hissed, slamming each parcel into a draw on his desk before facing you with a grin - making for the bed once more and snatching your wrist in an instant, “not some schmuck like you!” He yanked you from the bed - your tiptoes struggling to reach the floor as you found yourself staring into the eyes of the arachnid. His eyes suddenly widened - his grip weakening when a sadism finally settled in his eyes.

“It’s every demon for himself down here - the only true friend I have is me,” he hummed, breaking into a sudden laughter as he brought you closer, fingers forcibly entwined with yours as he took your waist. “Because I’m the one who’s staying _‘clean’_ and doing drugs where I’m unseen!” He sang - the sheer bliss on his face evident as you tried to wriggle from his grasp, only to be dragged to the side in what was meant to be a dance.

“_Oh darling, didya’ really think I’d need another me?_” He growled, an extra pair of arms sprouting from his side as you soon found yourself swept from the floor, legs kicking as the spider danced with you like some sort of toy. He burst into a short fit of laughter, unphased by your struggles. Like Alastor had once done, he dragged you this way and that, an unwilling dance partner as he continued his song.

“I’m a part of the perfect team - my every need is tailored to by me!” Even as you began to shout and curse, he ignored your pleas, dipping you into a state of silence; your stomach lurching in the violent force of the action. “And I don’t see a mirror stood in front of this!” He motioned to himself with a free hand, giving you a wink.

“And down here friendship is just a load of shit!” With a twirl he cracked up once more.

“So unless yer gonna whip out some cash, and babe, let’s face it,” he sniggered to himself, “ya could never afford this ass - don’t think I’m gonna be your magical friend, buddy!” Just because we crashin’ in the same-damn-house!” It was like looking at you had set off some trigger in his head, the fuse blown as he threw you to one side - back onto the bed.

“It’s much, much better for yer health, if ya just take care of yourself!” He yelled, the melodically insane tune having left his voice - distorted with a bitter distaste.

“Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head over peeps like me!” You’d risen onto shaky legs, backtracking towards the door in disgust and horror as he followed you with predatory interest.

“See doll, it’s every demon for himself down here,” he chuckled with a malicious smile, getting the door for you as you fell back. “And ah - well, fuck it, I’m sure ya get the idea.” The last you saw of him was that smug expression - the handle tight in your grasp as you slammed the door in his face. A chorus of laughter tearing from within as you stood there in denial.

You didn’t blink, didn’t flinch; a shell of what you once were earlier today, throwing light jokes and having a genuinely good time. The events that transpired descended into something twisted. You reminisced about that far off look in his eye as he slammed that demon against the vending machine, wondering if he’d do something like that to _you lest you get in his way. _

You didn’t doubt it.

_And now you had to keep all his dirty little secrets too._

All the fun that was experienced, every experience you had that brought a smile to your face, had been drained away in an instant; disappointment lingered on your tongue like a foul taste, biting it to quell the curses that threatened to spill. Wanting so _desperately_ to undo the binds to the cage you’ve created, wanting to lash out at him and give him a piece of your mind. But it was meaningless, it would only be a wasted breath.

Fists clenched, tears threatening to spill over, you turned— only to be greeted by an expression of mild curiosity and the very _last_ person you wanted to see. In your bleary gaze, it was hard to tell the emotions he was allowing you to see, but with the raised eyebrow and strained smile, you couldn’t help but feel as if he was revealing a fragment of concern.   
  


_But that was laughable._

“Is everything alright over here?” Alastor hummed; his tone chipper and airy as usual, apparently unscathed by your rigid demeanor and glassy eyes. 

The only thing he offered was a tilt of his head, the ambience he carried with him acting as a white noise to drown out your raging emotions and racing heart. The prior afternoon just the mere _thought_ of him caused your anxiety to skyrocket. But now; _now_ you could only find a semblance of comfort in his presence. The thought made your stomach churn in the most unpleasant of ways, for Alastor was the furthest person your would think to give you a _fraction_ of comfort. 

You nodded, indiscreetly biting your bottom lip as you wiped away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek, entirely giving away your internal turmoil. 

You felt damaged, _useless,_ betrayed, backstabbed. The list went on.

“_Now don’t lie to me,_” he mentioned in a warning tone, dropping an octave. It wasn’t meant to be a _dangerous_ warning per se, but one that inferred that he knew better than to listen to your words. He cast a glance at your now trembling fists, his smile seeming to waver the slightest bit.

There was no response from you.

“I’d _usually_ just let you deal with your own issues, but you seem to be in a great deal of emotional turmoil! And _oh_, if that isn’t a feeling almost everyone feels down here at least _once_,” he hummed, an oddly pleased noise coming from him as if he reveled in your misery.

His gaze snapped to you after a moment, but you didn’t see it, your eyes refusing to meet his.

He leant in, his form easily towering above your own, his shadow as intimidating as any other time he _showed up._ “Now, _do_ tell me what’s wrong, my dear. After all, we can’t have our _staff_ moseying around moping!” The demon chuckled at his own cryptic humor. With it you return a look that quelled his obnoxious laughter with a hum, a clicking sound emitting from the depths of his origin.   
  


The radio static only made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.   
  


“Is this about that effeminate spider?_ Angel Dust?_” he twists his hand in a contemplating manner, as if bothered to remember his name: “one of our residents_, correct?_”

The way you averted your gaze, unspeaking, told him _all_ he needed to know. His grin only stretched to its limit, his teeth seemingly more jagged and _dangerous, even as_ he intruded in your personal affairs — finally eliciting a response out of you:

“You know, it’s _rude_ to meddle in others’ business.” You frowned, swallowing your anxiety and putting your foot _down. “_I only know you’re trying to help but—”

“_But what?_ I could leave, pass you by—“ he exaggerated his point with his hands- you noticed he talked with his hands quite a bit. “I could, since, well, would you look at the time!” There was an ambient noise of a clock ticking before he lowered his gaze: “But I won’t, out of _pure_ heart.”

You knew better than to trust him.

You rolled your eyes, catching a glimpse of his own narrowing. He shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had been in for the briefest of moments.

An old tune echoed within the area, bouncing off the walls, seemingly part of his presence as he offered his arm to you, “Come now! What good will it do to just sit around here?”

Offering his company struck you as unnatural, and you frowned even further, staring at his arm for a long moment in silent contemplation. Your emotions defiled you and you found yourself taking it; in a state of utter weakness, it was perhaps foolish, stupid, but what _more_ did you have to lose?

He had already seen you cry, and he would more likely than not poke at you simply for allowing your emotions to take control of you. 

He led you down a perfectly lit corridor, stark light pouring from a few open doors accompanied by the relaxing orange hue of the Hotel’s candles. You suddenly felt tired.

“_I wouldn’t feel too bad, if I were you._” The demon hummed. Your nerves should have frayed from his mere presence, let alone his touch, but you felt drunk with grief. An experience so severe that left you desensitized to all that was around you, all that was happening._ Who you were touching._

“Too late,” Your voice was a mere whisper at first before you continued: “Why’s that?” His presence shifted around you, but you couldn't find the energy to _care_. He looked at you, his irises practically _glowing_ with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“He’s a fool, is he not?” replied Alastor thoughtfully, “a haughty one at that. I reckon those types aren’t worth wasting your time with, no?” His smile _seemed_ genuine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to trust it simply based on observation alone. 

“_...Maybe not._” You admitted, mentally noting how the day went with Angel about. You knew not all demons were these vile, wicked creatures; concerning yourself with Angel Dust might’ve been a bad move, interacting with a _bad apple that fell a bit too far away from his tree._

Alastor gave a singular nod in acknowledgement, pleased that you had agreed with his statement. And then he stopped. You looked at him in confusion; the area was familiar, but you could only focus on your comfort in that moment.

You could only focus on _him_.

Wordlessly, he only spun you around to face _your_ door. “Oh.” you said sheepishly. The walk hardly seemed strenuous, and in fact short-lived; wary of this recent development.

“Perhaps you’re just too _good_ for him?” He asked rhetorically. You shrugged.

Really, you had been taken aback by his words, his actions, his sudden desire to comfort you in your time of need. Maybe that’s the only reason why he sought to make the effort, because you _needed it? _To make sure you did his _work? _You could feel an inkling of anger begin to work it’s way up into your mind, but you took a breath to aid in destroying it.   
  
Despite being an overall asshole, Alastor hadn’t done anything _remotely_ infuriating as Angel had.

You hummed in thought, perplexed by what he was insinuating. You turned to face him properly, the ghost of a sentence forming on your lips.

_He was gone._

Gone, yet you still felt a phantom of his hands on your shoulders when he spun you, disappearing along with his settling presence.

Narrowing your eyes, you were silent as you merely turned back around, unbothered to search for where your odd company had gone. You’d unlocked your door slowly, almost melancholy — your mood lifted only slightly by the red-headed troublemaker you had come to know as _Alastor._

It was ridiculous to think he held any concern for anyone other than himself— certainly he would not for you. 

The first sighting of your bed was your last for the night, it’s plush bedding beckoned your worn form to it’s comforting embrace and you couldn’t give in quick enough. You almost immediately fell asleep, your eyelids heavy and your mind even heavier.

It had been a long day, but you relished the last moments as you reminisced about the rather _uplifting_ company of the Radio Demon. It could’ve been your mind dulling your sense of danger, the day jostling your mind, or perhaps you could’ve genuinely enjoyed the last bit of the evening with such a thing.

Like a fool. 

If anything, it only made your mind wander about him. Enigmatic and difficult to understand, not to mention how utterly mysterious he was. Crude, exceedingly annoying, masochistic.

_Maybe even a little bit sweet too._


	10. Distant Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops, our hands slipped. New chapter on Friday!
> 
> Come join us on our discord: https://discord.gg/nG4XzZr !
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE
> 
> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

You felt the sudden, inexplicable urge to scream at a certain _ someone _ while you polished the stained glass windows, taking great care to ignore _ his _ presence in all manners during the tedious working hours. It was the only time of day you _ needed _to be around him and you loathed every minute of it. 

It was a process to get through the first brunt of those harsh words. You tried desperately to just… _ let it go, _but you heart utterly refused -- caving in at the last moments of your consciousness before drifting off into a tear-streaked sleep. Your mind, in an attempt to soothe your woes, reminded you of the little things that seemed to be the only occasions that brought you joy.

It was simple, it was minute, but it was _ important to you. _ The minor things people will drift right by, downright _ ignore _ , were nothing but treasures you held tightly in your embrace, _ relishing _in the feelings those late memories sparked within you. Wandering to a place of comfort, your psyche sought the image of your red-clad companion, his contact an odd consolation to your worries.

_ “He’s such a jackass.” _

You all but growled into your violent scrubbing, skimming the fresh polish off the window in semi-anger. _ He _ was the one that sweet-talked Charlie into approving that inhumane list of chores you were _ expected _ to do, _ he _ was the one that would seemingly revel in your misery and _ he _was the one that you only recently developed a small bud of softness for. 

He was frustrating, you’d soon come to learn. The kindness he could show was something that you admired him for, but the impishness was a constant that deterred you away from his _ schemes. _Alastor was a trickster, at least appearing to be one, so you no doubt knew he was up to no good -- whether it was simplistic nonsense or something more sinister, had yet to be found out; that gnawing thought in the back of your mind persisted for a short while, your labor busying you.

Quiet grumbling was your next distraction, if only momentary; Husk busily tapped a claw against a remote -- a T.V. screen above him close to death, clearly old, with cobwebs and the like clinging to its frame. As the demon grew more frustrated, growling, abusing the remote in an attempt to get the television to work, static crackled from the blurry screen accompanied with growing noises of enragement. With sudden force the remote sailed through the air, coming to land on the floor, bits of plastic shrapnel flung in different directions.

For a moment, your attention remained on the broken remote, only for the loud voice of a reporter to bring you out of your surprise as the T.V. sprang to life. “Welcome _ back! _” There was an audible cracking noise as you watched the news reporter painfully snap her neck to the side. 

You internally cringed, taking a moment for a break as you leaned against the wall. A heavy sigh was released from your lips as you all but deflated against it, your hand coming up to wipe away the beads of sweat that had accumulated against your hairline. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, the screen showing an image of the individual you were nearly certain you’d seen being mercilessly slaughtered at the hands of the _ Radio Demon _. You grimaced at the memory, doing your very best to push it to the furthest recesses of your mind.

“_My _ , I thought I’d gotten rid of that one,” you weren’t sure what scared you more, the sudden proximity of Alastor’s voice or those quiet, shadowy sounds that followed him. He strolled past you nonchalantly, adjusting his monocle as he went to closer inspect the screen. “More like _ Sir Persistent _, if I do say so myself!” There was an audience soundtrack that originated from his ambience. You were kindly reminded of the fact that Alastor was much more of a wisecrack than an entirely dependable individual. 

Nevertheless, that didn’t change the fact that you had more of an acceptance of him than notable _ others _. 

“There’s always a next time, wouldn’t you say, Husker my old pal?” He leaned against the bar counter with an elfish expression, exceedingly proud of himself as the feline demon grumbled his disinterest concerning the entirety of the situation. You stared idly as he picked himself up again, apparently realizing that he had milked what entertainment he could from the old drunk. 

Your eyes met briefly, his grin smugly increasing tenfold and casting your way as he passed you once more. _ Dangerous, an abomination, a gentleman in the most ridiculous of ways. _

_ How were you meant to cope with anything in the damned hotel? _

A faint hearth resonated within you, your smile unfading as you got back to work. You preferred to remain in good terms with Alastor, despite the feeling of sudden overwhelming uncertainty and nausea whenever he got close to you. But that feeling too, stupidly, had begun to blossom into more neutral grounds.

It was a warmth, which under the correct circumstances, could have even blossomed into an emotion similar to relief. That warmth, in turn, became grew in intensity by the time you locked eyes with the _ last _ individual you wanted to see. In the instant it took for him to dismiss you; you could have _ truly _earnt your place in Hell. Biting your tongue hard enough to begin to taste the beginnings of blood, your ground your teeth together; truly, if you could breathe fire, you would have been huffing out smoke in sheer annoyance. 

He felt like shit, the spider casting her one last glance over his shoulder. _ Talk about having a stick up her ass. _The girl looked like she could do with a glass of wine and a full body massage with the way she was angrily shoving herself against a window in an attempt to polish. 

She was gonna break the whole goddamn thing if she continued on the way she was going. _ The fuck did he care for? _ He passed her one last look for shits n’ giggles, but it prompted _ anything _ but humor. There was an emotion that felt like a sinking in his chest, causing him to groan and slink off towards her as if it truly were the most disastrous thing to apologize for.

_ So,_ _maybe _ he was a bit harsh but what else was he _ supposed _ to do? It wasn’t like she hadn’t brought it upon _ herself_. Still, he couldn’t stand the tension, and it wasn’t the good kind before sex. It was awkward and _ shitty _ and he couldn’t bare to stay another second in the same room as her if she continued on in the way she was doing things.

The moment you felt a presence behind you, you dig your fingers into the polishing rag. Your eyes flickered up into the reflection of the window, head lifting to stare at him through it. “_What.” _ You stated, truly having a hard time controlling your patience since he _ basically _betrayed your trust. 

“Ah, don’t be like that...” 

In that moment, you spun around, throwing down the rag in a fit of rage. “Are you _ kidding me? Don’t ‘be like that’?” _ you finally had it, noting how one of his hands darted away from its reaching out position. His eyebrows were raised, as if not expecting for someone as _ sweet _ as you to lose your mind over a situation that could have easily been avoided if you hadn’t brought up the whole ‘friend’ thing. 

He crossed all four of the arms, scoffing. 

“Don’t make me out as the bad guy, baby, you ain’t no angel either,” he huffed, your eye twitched. “Yer insults are as pathetic as yer outlook on life down here,” He leaned in, you bared your teeth, a shit-eating smile as if he _ knew _ you couldn’t beat him in this standoff. 

You could hear a pin drop. That’s the wrong answer, brotha.

“Pathetic? _ I’m _ pathetic?” you gasped, a mocking laugh escaping you. “_You.” _ Your anger boldened the choices that you would have given a second thought on any other day. You were _ humiliated _ . You jabbed a finger into his chest, eyes blazing with all the wrath you held contained in yourself, all your _ feelings _ pooled in your throat, “You’re _ selfish. _ You weave your words and promises on a web of _ lies.”_

_ “My promises?,” _ He almost giggled, “I didn’t promise ya _ shit_, sweetheart. If anythin’, ya hold expectations up to my throat like a damn _ knife_.”

Pausing, you turned away from him, too caught up in your own emotions and questioning conscious to absorb his words. You felt a pang of guilt, only for your words, but the thought of your pettiness sent you in a different state of mind.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, a gesture that _ should’ve _ been comforting but only instilled melancholy in your form, warding the fury that once climbed from your mouth.

“--That’s how it _ is down here. _That’s how it oughta be. We didn’t get sent here for nuthin’, y’know. People like us got by, by doin’ the things you condemn so much.” Angel responded lightly, his tone thoughtful, as if he was unbothered by his mentality.

You understood only a little, but that didn’t make it any less pleasing.

_ “Heeey!” _A sweet voice interrupted your mixed emotions, crashing like an unpleasant wave, your thoughts being swept away from the shoreline of your mind, “Why don’t we just all try to calm it down, maybe break it up?” Charlie suggested.

_ Of course Charlie would be the only concerned one! _

You brought your hand through your hair, lacing your fingers throughout the tangled mess. You refused to look back at them, frowning all the while as you stalked off to the one thing you _ knew _could make you feel better, even in the slightest. Whatever surprise Husk might’ve shown to you when you sat upon the bar stool was short lived, as if he couldn’t be bothered enough. 

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you—dare you say it a rare moment of understanding as he puffed out smoke from his cigar and went to pour you a drink. You rested your head in your hands, a heavy sigh leaving you as you tuned out the background conversation, or _ argument, _ between Angel and Charlie. Their bickering echoing within the walls of the larger lobby.

...

“How do you deal with it all?” Your words were slow, _ tired _ , just loud enough for him to hear. Your anger quelled and turned bitter -- _ sorrowful _ yet again, something that you wanted to drown out with some hard _ liquor _ . You felt as if he read your mind, sliding a _ glass _of whiskey to you. For a moment, you thought he ignored you completely. 

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he did. 

“I _ don’t.” _He grunted as you began to sip off the drink, making a small face as the rather powerful liquid burned your tongue in the most satisfying way. He nearly laughed at your meager way of drinking. 

“... You don’t drink that often, do you?” You narrowed your eyes through the glass before setting it down. The taste was _ disgusting _, but the benefits it provided seemed worthy of consumption.

“That obvious?” It was mostly small talk, and when he cast you a shrug of his shoulders and another drag of his cigar, you couldn’t help but feel relieved that you didn’t have to _ talk. _ You didn’t have to _ explain _yourself or the reason you came over here to divulge in the contents of the bar. 

As if he hadn’t already known. He just didn’t give a shit, and for the first time, you found solace in being _ ignored. _After a moment, he took the glass from you, causing a single eyebrow to raise. In return, he gave you a shot glass and poured a fraction of the contents into it.

Now _ this _ you were familiar with. Taking it, you swung your head back and downed the alcohol in one go, grimacing at the taste alone before coughing into your arm. 

Swinging around from your barstool to face your problems, coveted by the alcohol in your system, you idly observed Charlie sharply narrow her doll eyes at your perpetrator, whom was now sweating profusely at her strict expression.

“So, _ what _ happened last night? I know you two were upstairs in your room, doing _ what? _” Angel tugged on his collar and Charlie only noticed you slowly blink in what she assumed was expiration -- she cast a worried glance your way which you only returned with a shrug, quelled by your drink, but annoyance still stuck your heart.

“I dunno - I might have said something but she’s just being touchy. She’ll get over it.” Charlie’s eyes narrowed to slits, the spider demon feeling the pressure as he’d obviously burst the bubble of the usually bubbly Princess. 

“Angel,” she huffed, “I’ve never seen her look so down!”

“Yeah, well ya haven’t known her for very long either, maybe that’s her normal face!” The spider replied grumpily, their voices hushed yet sharp. Charlie frowned, her foot down as she folded her arms around her chest. There was a moment of silence. Then a second, soon a minute when he finally caved in:

“_Alright, geez! _ Just get off my tits, will ya?” He groaned, wringing a hand around his neck with a hefty sigh. “-- She said she appreciated my help and I told her I didn’t do it for her and that we weren’t _ friends-“_” 

“_ANGEL!_” You jumped, Charlie’s hands shooting to her mouth as she tensed up. It irritated you that you knew they were talking about you. Even if Charlie meant well, you just wanted to forget about it, going about your business with a fresh wound to pick at. 

“You can’t say that kind of thing!” Charlie whispered, Angel stretching out his arms defensively.

“Well what do ya want me to say then? We’re _ not _friends!” 

“I-” the demon choked on her words as she cast her gaze towards the floor, “you could have been nicer about it, or just accepted it. You didn’t have to say _ that _.”

_ Who were you kidding? _You couldn’t handle it - the eyes, the words; you were sick of it all. 

Without so much as a look, you slid from your stool (on unsteady legs) and ambled towards the stairs. You’d wait there. Mind made up; you were going to find out how the Hell you ended up in _ Hell _. Charlie bundled her fists tight, your name stuck in her throat as she watched you go.

“See, yer shoutin’ scared her off.” Angel commented idly - Charlie’s attention whipping around to him. The Princess glaring harshly at him one last time before storming off.

“_What!”_ Angel Dust called after her. “What did I do wrong this time?” His voice grew louder and he soon found himself making his own way, cursing under his breath as he made for his room and his precious stash.

It wasn’t like you could hide forever, but you managed to clock in a solid hour before Niffty came to retrieve you for more work. Her overly energetic and optimistic personality would usually be a blessing, but you weren’t feeling it. She’d calmed so to speak when she’d noticed you weren’t feeling too great, her smile faltering ever so slightly. In the blink of an eye she’d whisked you off to another spot to do more cleaning though, stating that’s what cheered _ her _ up. You’d smiled and gone along with it, but it felt hollow. A front to how you really felt. A smile that seemed absent was Alastor’s, the _ Radio Demon _ nowhere to be found, up to _ something _most likely. 

_ Hopefully pestering Angel_, you thought bitterly. 

Even then, your spite was wearing you out; all you wanted was to hit the finish line and go - _where?_ You had no idea, but there had to be something out there, _anything_, to help you restore even the smallest fragment of your memory. 

All you had to do was wait.

Until the crimson skies darkened, their brilliant color diminished by the creeping dusk that you waited so eagerly for. You waited until the light that pooled from the windows was only an echo from the outdoor street lamps, until the clamor of voices quieted into sweet silence.

Your steps were shallow, _ astonishingly silent _in their wake as you traveled down the grand stairwell that only started from the cathedral hall, lighting your path was unending determination, accompanied with the flickering candles mounted against the high walls; the lobby’s expanse seemed even larger with the previous residences now absent, tucked cozily in their warm beds away from the grasping hands of the cold night.

There was just one thing you needed before you left. Adrenaline fueled you onwards; you figured Husk would have something like it lying around, so you head behind the bar -- crouching down to search the shelves behind the counter. Your gaze leapt over what should have been dark shelves, yet your eyesight was stricken with an aptitude that made late night mischief easy...

Booze, booze, _ oh _ \-- and there was some more cheap booze. A glimmer caught your attention. It wasn’t much but the broken bottle top was the best weapon you could find. _ For self-defense purposes only. _ You wrapped your fingers around what was now the handle, and brandished your broken bottle. As you rose, you gave it a couple of once overs then tucked it uncomfortably into your pocket, non-discrete and rather bulky. 

_ Other demons probably had worse things hidden in plain sight. _

With your weapon, you were finally prepared for your journey. With a head full of frustration and utter resolve, annoyance dancing on the edge of your mind, you set off -- _ you had to know _. 

And were going to find out, no matter what it took. 


	11. Abstract Atrocities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, folks! Enjoy! 
> 
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You waited. Until the crimson skies darkened, their brilliant color diminished by the creeping dusk that you waited so eagerly for. You waited until the light that pooled from the windows was only an echo from the outdoor street lamps, until the clamor of voices quieted into sweet silence.

Your steps were shallow, _ astonishingly silent _in their wake as you traveled down the grand stairwell that only started from the cathedral hall, lighting your path was unending determination, accompanied with the flickering candles mounted against the high walls; the lobby’s expanse seemed even larger with the previous residences now absent, tucked cozily in their warm beds away from the grasping hands of the cold night.

There was just one thing you needed before you left. Adrenaline fueled you onwards; you figured Husk would have something like it lying around, so you head behind the bar -- crouching down to search the shelves behind the counter. Your gaze leapt over what should have been dark shelves, yet your eyesight was stricken with an aptitude that made late night mischief easy...

Booze, booze, _ oh _ \-- and there was some more cheap booze. A glimmer caught your attention. It wasn’t much but the broken bottle top was the best weapon you could find. _ For self-defense purposes only. _ You wrapped your fingers around what was now the handle, and brandished your broken bottle. As you rose, you gave it a couple of once overs then tucked it uncomfortably into your pocket, non-discrete and rather bulky. 

_ Other demons probably had worse things hidden in plain sight. _

With your weapon, you were finally prepared for your journey. With a head full of frustration and utter resolve, annoyance dancing on the edge of your mind, you set off -- _ you had to know._

And were going to find out, no matter what it took. 

The streets in the surrounding area were silent but not dead; each shadow hosting hundreds of eyes you couldn’t see. The distant murmuring of demons was faint, but audible enough to perk your already fickle attention. One second it was a sound, perhaps the meow of a stray cat -- then the flickering of a street lamp would almost have you prepared to run, a sudden desire for the Hotel’s warmth washing over you. 

Anxiety crept into your mind, the leering shadows striking a nostalgic fear throughout your trembling heart. You couldn’t escape the fact that you were in _ Hell. _

_ Alone. _

Your clouded mind’s influence crept further, a small part of you shook with great fear, but you harshly pushed those thoughts aside -- cutting them off before they had even begun to form._ You weren’t scared_, you _ refused _to be scared.

You drew in a deep breath, counting as you did, exhaling your building panic and forlorn thoughts. 

An alleyway beckoned you; your leg felt the sharp point of your makeshift weapon, instilling a new sense of courage in your steps while you trotted through a space between close buildings -- apartments, perhaps? They were tall, _ intimidating, _and you passed them by with a cautious gaze; your eyes had caught several glints, a deep red in color and glowing with something wicked.

_ Whatever they were, they must’ve seen your weapon and didn’t feel like trying their luck today. _

For _ Hell _, every bit of architecture was ornate and carefully carved, the craftsmanship something you could admire and a distraction that quelled your emotions. Pressing on through the night, you followed your gut -- those feelings inside that told you to go left, or down that street. The empty scene near the hotel soon flourished into the bustling inner city life. Maneuvering through the crowds, you felt lost in a sea of people, like you were drowning in emotion with each desperate turn of the head. Even if you had a weapon, you found yourself eager to escape the crowds of rowdy looking demons that passed by you, pushing and shoving; it was only a matter of time before one of them tried to start trouble. 

_ That was what happened in Hell. _

It was then that you dodged an oncoming demon and sidestepped your way into a strange alley. At first, you’d been wary of it, but something pulled you on. Fixated on the light that shone at the end of the alley, you walked. Confidence in your journey restored. That was, until shadows contorted the light, their forms twisting into focus and you felt your hand suddenly wrap around the bottle in your pocket. 

You weren’t fast enough to turn; a finger pointed at you by a heavily disfigured demon.

He was missing a few teeth, a long scar hugging his features and coming to finish at the bottom of his disjointed jaw. It was like somebody had thrust his face against a_ vending machine _ \-- your pace quickening as you head in the opposite direction. The cries behind you followed by the sound of feet hitting the floor harder than they should have been. 

_ Running. _ Something you didn’t hesitate to do -- your bottle in hand as you sprang down the rest of the alley in a few bounds, like some newborn fawn with uneasy legs as you came crashing into the street once more. Demons hissed and cursed, a flurry of ‘ _ watch it!’, _but you didn’t care. Without thinking, you ran straight into the road, dodging cars as you went -- some putting in less effort than others to swerve and miss you.

“Get that _bitch!_” It was then that you learnt just how bad Hell could truly be; the demons behind you spurring on some sort of hunt as you saw a pair of hands appear from beside you -- the unhinged grin of a random demon provoking enough fear in you to make a scream tempt into your throat and almost cry out.

Except, you didn’t. Raising your hand, you brought the bottle down defensively. 

When it collided, it sunk into the side of the offender; something you hadn’t realised until you’d pushed yourself from the concrete, blood painting your clothes from the thing beside you. It writhed in pain, other local demons gathering round, some cheering, some joining in the violence and lunging for the now injured demon. You’d quickly scrambled to your feet - the momentary daze of the carnage soon shaking off as a stream of swearing erupted from nearby; the hoarse battle cry of the demon that Angel had assaulted. You knew they wouldn’t listen to reason as you ran - powered on by your reinvigorated spite for the spider demon as _ his _ problems came back to haunt _ you _.

Your lungs burnt with each breath, the bright lights of the city blinding you as you tried to escape. Like a bullet, you pierced the crowd; your target unknown. All you knew is that you had to get away. 

_ Or you would never return to the hotel. _

The thought terrified you. What happened when you died in the afterlife? Was there another Hell worse than this one or would everything cease to exist? _ Was there nothing after? _The thought of there being an endless void terrified you more than anything of the situation you were fleeing from at that moment. A knot in your throat choked you, only making it harder to breathe as the lights blurred.

_ Why did everything always happen to you? _

You hadn’t stopped your onslaught of sprinting, too distracted by your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the indent in the wall until it was too late; an arm shot out from a dark alleyway, and you would have screamed if you were not pinned to the wall. A whisper of a _ ‘shhh’ _ that would have sounded _ incredibly _familiar had you not had blood pounding through your ears. 

There was a heavy darkness, but it soon faded from your vision, the weight on your chest easing up as the shadows fled further down the alley. _ There was no one there. _

The small scapes and injuries dealt to you would have hurt like a bitch if you hadn’t been running purely on adrenaline. Your lungs heaved in the air that surrounded you, your hands on your knees as you caught you bearings. Your moment of recovery was short lived; echoes of screams and shouts reminding you instantly that you weren’t out of the woods _ quite yet. _Not taking any chances, you slid down an incline, your person hidden poorly by the unlevel ground.

And then you spotted a bridge.

_ That’ll do. _

It was near a lake, covered in moss and algae -- reminding you more of a swamp than anything, truly -- large enough for you not to be able to make out the land on the other side. It was calm, glass-like, and made for better cover. Picking your pace up into a jog now that you were _ semi-protected _by the foliage and shadows of the night, you made your way towards the pier. Without a moment of hesitation, the water you greeted you with a large splash. Ultimately, you secluded yourself behind the barnacle-clad support beams.

You could _ hear _ them as they emerged from the alley, not daring peek from your compromising position. For a moment that felt like an eternity, you close your eyes, attempting to control your breathing in steady paces. They cursed, another making a pained sound as they dwindled around for a moment longer before hurriedly scurrying off to hunt you down.

You breathe a sigh of relief, chest heaving.

You gritted your teeth. Despite everything that had transpired, you didn’t regret coming out here. _ If there was any chance your memory could be restored, it was out here. _ The water slipped out of your hand when you clenched your fist, a frown broadening your features. You remained still for a moment longer to ensure that they truly _ were _gone before surveying yourself, drying dirt and the sickening color of sanguine stained your shirt heavily. 

It was silly to think that you had to dive into a murky lake to escape them; but you were relieved to find out that it had in fact, _ worked. _You shook your hands in an attempt to clean their contents, taking a moment to gaze out into the quiet lake waters in your lamenting. 

You watched a ship float across the lake, stirring those melancholy feelings within you. Something wet and salty, a different consistency than the water began to trail down your cheek. A singular rivulet of a tear, before you gave a huff and wiped at your face roughly. 

Now your face was covered in mud. _ Damn it _. 

Leaning against the beams, you moved to reach land once again, mud in your shoes causing your trek to be a bit more tedious than it would have been if you had been shoeless.

Slowly, you made your way up the grassy terrain, grunting as you at last reached the concrete. As if pulled along by some sort of calling, you soon found yourself on the bridge, leaning against the barriers of the structure.

Nostalgia was prominent in your mind, as if you were watching a distant memory float by, only an observer in its endeavor and perhaps a _ participant _ in its contents. You felt sick, watching a _ thing _sink into the waters, devoured by the depth and taken from light’s reach.

Your face wound into a tight frown of frustration. These _ memories, _ these _ feelings _refusing to leave, lingering and making your own emotions sink with this fleeting images. 

Frustrated with all newfound mental baggage and tired from the “festivities” of tonight, all you could do was let sorrow consume you, letting yourself indulge this rare moment of loneliness. 

You wished it could all sink and disappear, _ you _wished you could do the same, leave your troubles behind until they were only a whisper in your mind.

You didn’t know how long you ended up staying there; but the harsh white lights that were cast over the pier forced terror into your weary bones. You didn’t want any more trouble -- you couldn’t bring yourself to move either; the sound of a car door slamming making you flinch, gripping the bridge barrier tight as you narrowed your eyes towards the light that was pointed _ directly _at you. 

When you heard Charlie’s voice, you couldn’t have felt more relieved -- for as much as you wanted to be alone, you knew she cared, and you she’d come to find you. 

_ You could go home. _

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, unsure if she had even found the right person. Upon moving towards her, she simply stood, shock written all over her expression, even as you picked up your pace and threw yourself at her. It hadn’t occurred to you that you were _ completely _ messing up her outfit with mud, blood, and water as you cling onto her taller form, exploding into tears. 

She’d ushured you into the limo, noting the slight red imprint that’d been left against her body. Not to mention the same crimson hue that speckled your fingers and nails to form a slight crust that’d been picked at. Your face wasn’t any better, but you couldn’t care less. Not right now. Not when you felt like complete _ shit. _

For the majority of the ride, you sat in a comfortable silence; _ sure _, you’d glanced around the limo but that soon became a fruitless endeavor. You found comfort in the sight of the stars outside the window, eyes trained on the bright cloud that silhouetted the sky, a halo positioned just above it. 

Charlie had offered some words of reassurement but she’d not asked you what had happened, and for that you were grateful. 

As long as you were alive and safe, that was all that mattered.

Concern was written on her face, sparing you several glances -- particularly eyeing your bloodied and mud-encrusted clothes like a worried mother. She’d gaze at your face, your _ expression, _trying to pick apart what could’ve transpired on your rather dire adventure. She bit her lip in contemplation.

“What are you looking at there?” Charlie asked softly and had slid across her seat, her eyes twinkling like the stars themselves.

“Just the sky,” you managed, a sigh soon forcing its way out, “it’s pretty.” 

“_ You really think so too? _” Charlie gasped -- quick to calm herself as she gave you a guilty smile. “I mean-” she caught herself, “-Hell can be a beautiful place if you look in the right places.” With a deep breath in, she puffed out her chest and lifted her arms to her side.

“You just have to get past the rubble and blatant ugliness first.” 

You were _ exhausted _ , worn out not only by the antics that had gone on throughout the day itself, but because you were emotionally drained to begin with. You didn’t know how Charlie kept up such a good outlook on this life— you admired her for it. The thought of having another girl-to-girl moment made your stomach queasy; so you desperately sought a conversation that _ wasn’t _about you. 

“They call you the Princess of Hell,” You stated, uncertain if it was _ common knowledge _or not. Charlie looked up from her lap, an apprehensive look upon her face. “A-are you?” The stutter made you internally cringe, but you found yourself moving past it swiftly as Charlie humored your attempt at changing the topic. 

She only smiled in return, it was soft, not happy but… _ pleased? _

Charlie begun by nodding slowly, keen to catch onto your intentions, a twinkle in her eye as she gazed out the window nearest to where you sat.

_ “Yeah,” _ was all she said, before a moment of silence passed between you two, as if she contemplated what to say, “But don’t let that make you think of me as different… or special. I’m just like everyone else here, _ aside from my responsibilites.” _She stated humbly, you were quick to disagree.

“_ Are you kidding? _ You’re pretty much the opposite of most people here -- you’re _ nice -- _you’re kind and you actually care about people. I certainly can’t say the same for a lot of others here.” You responded confidently, shrugging.

Her smile broadened before faltering slightly, giving your form another once-over, she sighed, closing her eyes in trepidation, “despite what you may believe, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows.” Charlie rarely frowned, so when she did, it caught you off guard. “Princes and Princesses are for fairytales, not for down here. No one cares if you’re the lowest or the highest in the food chain— because _ there’s nothing to be afraid of.” _

You blinked. She noted your reaction.

“You’re already in the scariest place there is. It can’t get any worse than this.” She rephrased. 

…

“That journey did a real number on you, didn’t it?” She tried to change the subject this time, giving you an empathetic smile when you just narrowed your eyes in thought, “ --When I was younger, I was a lot like you… getting bullied, pushed around by demons twice my size,” she traced the pattern on the plush seating of the limousine, “and I didn’t know _ what _ to do. I got hurt just like you, _ because I was afraid _.”

You turned to face the blonde, her eyes trained only on doodling patterns.

“Are you afraid?” She asked suddenly, her motions stopping for a moment to readjust her attention to you. You nodded slowly.

_ “Don’t take shit from other demons.” _ Gaze flickering to her face, you noted how she was smiling again, her rosy cheeks seemed even rosier now, “At least, that’s what my dad always told me, when _ I _ was afraid.” You smiled.

The hotel came into view now, the limousine emerging from a small road tunnel, you exchanged glances with Charlie, nodding in thanks. You would’ve said something, but your fatigue was clearly overtaking you, thankfully she seemed to understand your situation -- the vehicle drove into the front cul de sac, beautifully lit and seemingly prepared for the limo’s arrival.

“C’mon,” Charlie said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Let’s get you some food and maybe some rest. You need it.” She delicately brushed your mangled hair out of your face, “...and perhaps a shower.” You both shared a chuckle at her statement, appreciating her sweetness in your time of need.

She took your hand, prompting you to follow her out of the vehicle and down the luxurious walkway to the hotel’s main entrance. 

Charlie had opened her mouth to say something as she pushed down the handle of the door, yet the stream of shouting and curses that interrupted her told you that whatever quiet evening she’d offered you was going to be nothing short of chaos.

“_ FAT NUGGETS NO! _” Angel’s Dust voice pierced the air, although the others were just as loud: Vaggie had been desperately trying to diffuse a situation between Husk and Angel -- the shattered glass, booze and blood all over the floor painting a lovely picture about what had happened. Now the arachnid was fixated on Fat Nuggets, his sweet little piggy trotting straight over to Alastor who crouched down in front of it. He wore a misleading smile, yet you could feel the hunger radiating off him in waves -- Nuggets oblivious to the danger. 

“_ Don’t you DARE touch him or I’ll put ya in the grave again myself!” _ Angel Dust had sprouted a pair of extra arms, two guns aimed at Alastor - the spider reaching inside his V neck as if he was going to pull out another gun - or a bazooka in his rage. 

You remained motionless, your jaw slack as you watched the chaos unfold. 

“HEY!” Charlie cried, arms out like a conductor as all eyes fell on her. _ “Everybody just calm down!” _ She added, turning to Vaggie who seemed relieved to have her back. “What _ happened _? Oh gosh, Husk are you alright?” She left your side to sort out the troubles. You felt guilty, standing there like the mess you were. In the hour Charlie had been gone, the Hotel itself had nearly been dismantled.

“Well, Fat Nuggets indeed, what do you feed this thing? _ Lead? _ ” You still weren’t used to him doing that - Alastor cradling the oblivious pig in his arms with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. You eyed the demon who now stood beside you; noting he looked _ ravenous _, rivulets of drool pouring onto the pet pig. 

“_ GIMME! _ ” Angel howled, nearly tackling the Radio Demon as he successfully unhinged Alastor’s grasp from his dear piggy. He spun Nuggets around before holding him close to his chest. “ _ Oh you’re safe now baby, Daddy isn’t gonna hurt you - let’s get you some treats, would you like that huh? I bet you would wouldn’t you, my little munchkin~! _” He was off, escorting his pet away- it’s beady eyes watching you from over his shoulder. 

You closed your mouth with an audible _ ‘click!’ _, the smallest of frowns adorning your lips.

Alastor dusted down the sleeves of his suit, straightening his monocle, bow, and outfit from the rough housing that had ensued. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, narrowing slightly when he saw your disheveled state -- it was then when he turned to you properly, you spared a look at him.

_ “Did you enjoy the pier?” _ He asks and you visibly stiffen, your expression bricked as you felt a familiar shudder run through you, the disembodied song was elegant -- _ clever and dark _, you felt sick again.

He just smiled at you, an innocent facade plastered across his features, but you were directed a more sinister look with his eyes. Laughing, he turned away to leave you to your inner turmoil _ and possible screaming _ , humming a fine tune as he retreated from the main lobby into a side gallery. You weren’t sure what he was up to, and did know if you even really _ cared. _

_ “ _ Wait- _ what?” _

The words shot out from your mouth before you had the chance to stop them, your feet moving on their own accord. But then you stopped, watching as he went to converse with the others. A heavy sigh was released from you, your shoulders sagging as you shook your head.

_ The motherfucker liked messing with your mind. _

Peering down at your shirt, pants and shoes, you grimaced. You really needed a shower. You’d deal with Alastor’s nonsense another day. 


	12. Midnight Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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_ Whoosh _

You turned the golden handle, feeling the comfortably warm water ebb away the infectious anguish that _ Hell _caused, soothing your tight and stressed muscles. You’d had a rough couple of days: cleaning, working, and getting into all sorts of dangerous situations; you felt more like a burden than anything, always doing things like this, causing Charlie’s already long list of responsibilities to lengthen. The thought caused a grimace to emerge.

_ Am I a responsibility? _

It plagued you as you found yourself treating your hair with aggression -- a bad habit you picked up from just being down here, taking your anger out on mundane tasks or _ yourself _. It wasn’t healthy. You sighed, breathing out your thoughts, trying to be rid of them.

A new thought -- a memory this time, shoved aside your insistent attempts at peace. _ The pier, _how it quickened your heart and saddened your already pathetic state, all these emotions coming back in one crashing wave. 

The crystal water turned muddy, red twisting into the elegant streams as all your venture’s burdens went down the drain, you reminisced with a mixture of horror and sorrow as this… _ memory, _had truly taken its toll; earlier this evening your senses must’ve been too dulled to grasp the intensity of remembrance.

You felt your eyes well up again. _ You felt even more pathetic. _

The soap was soothing to your abused form, smelling of delicate lavender, rich honey… _ and something entirely otherworldly. _It smelled heavenly— ironic enough, as you were in the farthest place from it. 

Making quick work of the rest of your shower, you only stumbled out of the large unit clumsily, still stricken with this _ trauma, _a fluffy towel wrapped loosely around your body; your mind was dazed entirely and you jumped harshly upon hearing a soft knock, as if a shy, little mouse had wanted entry. 

Though, it was no mouse, but only the appearance of the rosy-cheeked woman that you had the audacity to call your friend, carrying a plate of steaming food, no less.

It looked utterly _ divine, _wealthy, a hearty meal would surely aid in recovering your strength! You smiled warmly at her, her presence alone melting away your anxiety with her own hearth-like aura. 

“_Oh… _ I um, didn’t know you would be so-” she motioned to your post-shower and hardly appropriate presentation, “ _ -Undressed _. But I’d be just as eager as you to wash all that grime off, if I were in your situation.” The blonde offered thoughtfully, her surprise replaced with only sympathy.

“And… _ oh! I brought you food~!” _ Sparkles suddenly lit up her eyes and she shoved the plate of food eagerly into your awaiting hands, practically bouncing with both excitement and ecstatic joy. “_I made it myself.” _She stated proudly.

You gave her one of those-half smiles you only recently adopted, tiredness clearly impacting your functionality. Charlie only watched with large, expectant eyes; you shook your head, bringing a rather generous bite to your lips.

Something akin to a moan escaped you, and you were embarrassed by your own reaction. Charlie’s satisfaction was unending, she beamed.

“I’m glad you like it!” She responds sweetly, giggling, “_... the apple pie is a family recipe.” _Leaning in to whisper the last bit, as if someone might hear.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Charlie asks as you carefully set down the meal _ she prepared herself. _ Your heart swelled at her thoughtfulness. Surely, there weren’t many that were as kind as your rosy-cheeked companion -- your _ friend. _

“For _ everything_,” you began. Slowly, you look back up to meet her eyes once again: “You deal with my _ bullshit _ , you let me stay in the hotel, you _ pay me _, and I don’t know how to show my gratitude.” A genuine smile appeared upon your lips briefly before fading away as you continue on. 

“I cause more trouble than it’s worth,” a shrug was offered secondly, her gaze hardened at your words.

“No no,” she shook her head, “everything I have done for you, you have deserved.” She insisted on not giving you ‘special treatment’, simply stating that she was easing you into life down here. She continued on, explaining that it was _ rough _, but you had been insanely lucky. For she was a demon who had been born in Hell, and she knew a lot more than she let on. 

“It’s okay to be stressed out. I don’t expect anything less,” she places a hand on your shoulder. You look over at it for a long moment, your half-smile returning. It was then you heard a familiar voice call from down the hall: Vaggie. Instantly, Charlie’s head popped up. “That’s my cue— rest up, will you?” 

With a smile as gentle as a mouth full of sharp teeth could express, the Princess excused herself, shutting the door behind her. 

You stared at the mahogany door for a while, lost in thought for even longer before you remembered the pie simply by the scent that had begun to fill the room. Your stomach growled, suddenly reminding you that you were _ exceedingly hungry. _Taking the plate, you walked over to the windowsill, grabbing a pillow and nestling yourself against it; pulling your legs up to your chest as you scoffed down the pie. 

_ Truly, it had been one of the best things you ever had the pleasure of tasting. _

Appetite satiated, you released a sigh. There was a soft sound against the window, then another, and then another: _ rain_. It began slowly, each splash leaving a trail in its wake.

You watched with mild interest as the rain became heavier, small flashes of lightning and the rumbling of thunder accompanying its growing intensity. Peeking over the window on weak legs, you peered out into the wet streets below, illuminated by both the street lamps and hotel lights, your wonderment not unlike that of a child’s.

You pressed your cheek against the window, the glass was cool and soothing to your warm face. _ It was a good night. _

You were clean, fed and watered -- sheltered from the dipping temperature outside, _ Hell _ wasn’t that bad right now. It felt good. You were _ basking _ in comfort.

It was easy to get lost in thought, you supposed, constantly finding yourself pulled in the false security of your mind. Perhaps you would have called yourself a dreamer had you been any younger and naive than your were now. 

It was a defense mechanism when you found yourself to be uncertain. Disassociate with yourself, be _ nothing; _it was easier said than done, to say the least. Gently, you peeled yourself off the window ledge, flickering towards the bed in blind contemplation. 

_ Perhaps you would do well to listen to what Charlie had said. Rest always made things easier, didn't it? _

As if your thoughts had become a reality, a yawn was released. With a sigh, you push yourself off of the indentation of the wall, walking over to the small closet that was graciously gifted to you; a small and moveable barrier acted as a seclusion to the rest of your room, removing your damp robe and tossing it into a bin, you put on your jammies. _ My hair can just dry during the night. _

Climbing upon the exceedingly fluffy comforter. The softness welcomed you with an embrace, curling yourself tightly within its clutch, exhaustion prominent on your features and lulling you into a well-deserved sleep.

_ BOOM _

  
A roar of thunder followed by the overbearing sight of lightning lit up your window, flashing across the sky and causing an audible uproar in the lobby downstairs. You groaned, squinty eyes noticing the still dark sky and rather treacherous weather; you weren’t asleep for that long. 

_ Of course they had been woken up too. _

“Ah, fuck,” was all you growled in your sleep-deprived state, crabbiness feral. With the weather as atrocious as it was, chances were the sleep you’d gotten would be the only sleep you got.

A groan passed your lips as you slid your legs from the edge of the bed; all the cosy heat you’d trapped beneath the confines of the duvet’s embrace allowed to escape. Like some sort of drunken grump (quite reminiscent of Husk if you’d been observing yourself), you staggered over to the light switch, muttering to yourself as you went.

When you flicked the switch, it took a moment for your brain to adjust to the fact that you were, in fact, still standing in the dark. You tried again, a third time; to no avail.

The chorus of chaos that had erupted from around the hotel only emphasised the fact that you weren’t suffering from a bust bulb, but a power outage. 

“_Some classy establishment this is! _ ” Angel’s voice was the most prevalent. Your eye twitched. “ _ Ya know without the lights ya can pretend this place isn’t a dump! _” A snooty laugh was heard. There were other voices, but you couldn’t make them out; busily searching for some source of light around your room. 

“_Yeah yeah, I will, gimme a damn break. _” He sounded pretty close, not that you were really bothered by whatever it was he was doing. You were too concerned with the candle you’d found, matches to boot - each strike against the box amounting to nothing. When a tiny flame finally erupted from the end, you nearly dropped the match; happy to have succeeded in your task nevertheless as you retreat back to the bed. 

Snuggled beneath the duvet once more, you found yourself entranced by the beauty of flame as it flickered and danced in the darkness. 

_ He’d just about had it. _

Vaggie had broken up his and Husk’s little love spat and _ then _ Charlie just had to bring back that leech that was getting _ him _ into trouble. A hand rubbing against his arm, he payed no attention to her door as he traversed down the hall; the dumb blonde’s words playing on his mind. It wasn’t like he _ hadn’t _ tried to apologise before, but she clearly wanted none of it. 

Why _ should _ he apologise? 

To be a ‘_good demon_’? It frustrated him to no end, a constant badgering in his heart and mind. He found himself dead in his tracks as he nearly passed by her room. _ It’d be for the best in the end. _ Charlie would get off his ass and it was dragging him down seeing his co-worker so pissy all the time.

_ And why was she always so damn upset? _ Why couldn’t she just be happy and accept the fact that she was in Hell like the rest of them? They were all _ fucked_; so why did she get to come down here and get the special treatment? He frowned, arms knit tightly across his chest. It was _ his _ fault for bringing her to the hotel in the first place.

At least she’d experienced some joy before the hellish reality of Hell had come raining down on her. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to do it; as there was some sort of damn barrier between him and the door. Something that pushed him away, it was not evil, nor a sudden strike of goodness… akin to a force of nature, _ his _nature that propelled his judgement.

He hissed.

She wasn’t a leech, she was a disease; spreading that infectious joy better than Charlie. He looked down, deep in thought, as images of her damned smile came crashing into his mind.

And she’d been down ever since he’d-- ever since _ they _ went shopping. No; she’d been happy then, the way she beamed up at him, her small chuckles, her quick-witted quips and the look she gave him like he was her fuckin’ idol or something.

It made him feel _ special. _

It irritated him. It irritated him that she didn’t look at him the same way anymore when he needed somebody to rant to about stupid power outtages or just -- he could have punched a hole in the door and screamed at her. 

_ Why the hell should she care about him if he didn’t care about her? _

He grit his teeth, passing on by as he stormed off through the hall - too chicken, too aware of his own emotions for his own good.

You listened to the gentle patter of rain against the window for sometime; head as clouded as the skies above. Whatever drama had been happening had died down and the hotel was left in subtle_ peace _, the mellow atmosphere perfect for making you want to drift off once more; but you knew you couldn’t sleep even if you tried. 

Distant memories danced within your grasp like a candle flame, unable to shake that one thought -- that one _ memory _ that blocked out the rest. Fingers sinking into the duvet, you pulled up your knees, hugging them tight as you let the silence take over your mind. 

Her face was in her hands, a particular company attempted to comfort the stressed woman; as a manager and a _ friend, _her responsibilities, her wants, mingled with her emotional stability. The power outage enough to tip both of them into a state of dismay; one concerned about the other, who took on too much for her own good.

It was his second time tipping the bottle back and still, nothing came out. He didn’t know what he was expecting; some part of him unconsciously thinking that maybe there’d be a drop of that cheap booze left. Maybe he’d had too much if he was thinking like that -- but the empty lobby looked as depressing as he felt. He might have stopped after a solid day of drinking if he wasn’t stuck in the damn hotel. 

He rolled his finger beneath his tongue, savouring the bitter taste that filled his mouth; even if the only buzz he was getting was that of the slowly growing rage he felt pooling his gut. Eternally frowning, he dabbed his finger back into the bag and coated it in another layer of the powder, eagerly stuffing it into his mouth - and another in the hopes it’d make him feel something other than what he already did. 

The peace disturbed only by the storm outside and the haunting tune that echoed throughout the halls. Each note blend into the air, although not welcoming, the dark melody held a comforting, familiar feel to it; as if it was made for a rainy day. It was elegant, _ thoughtful, _something that provoked both a sense of comfort and wonderment.

Perfectly reminiscent of the emotions that stirred within you. 

The wick of the candle had melted away, though only partially, leaving you to ponder if you were really hearing things as you listened to the song of the piano that seemed to seep through the walls. It made you wonder who was playing; who _ could _play? 

Even in your sleep-deprived state, curiosity got the better of you.

The hotel was in Hell after all -- who knew, maybe there was a ghost playing? Some _ ‘lost soul’? _ You amused yourself with your thoughts -- fingers curling around the handle of the candleholder. If it was a ghost then did they count as a _ guest _?

Charlie would probably have a heart attack -- if she _ had _ a heart of course. You almost laughed at the thought, but your face remained tired and somewhat grim, only a symptom of your own fatigue. With a huff, you lifted yourself off of the bedside, a single hand rubbing at your eyes in an effort to be rid of the weariness you felt. 

The dim room offered only the most subtle of lighting, causing you to squint in caution so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. The floorboards creaked it’s demise at your sudden weight; truly, with the thunder outside, the lightning, and the sheer unnatural darkness, you felt as if you were in your _ own _ haunted house. In some ways the thought was _ true, _in others it was just a laughable expression. 

The floor wasn’t necessarily _ cold _considering it was rather naturally insulated by the plush carpet the adorned the foundations of the room. 

That being said, the rest of the room bore an unnatural coldness to it, like there was a draft somewhere; presumably from a crack in the more dilapidated parts of the walls that Niffty had failed to patch up (although you doubted anything could get past her eye). Moving forward, you only tighten your grip on the candle by its holster, wincing slightly at the heat that radiated off of the metal before willing it through. 

The flame flickered back and forth with each step you took, illuminating your path just _ that _ much more. Your eyes had begun to adjust to the vacant darkness that shrouded your peripheral vision the longer you remained in its presence. With a creak, you grasped the door knob and opened it with a swing. Stepping out, you noted how the hallway was seemingly endless. Silhouettes of candles that hung low against the walls made your sleep deprived mind do a double-take; blown out and leaving plumes of smoke in their wake. 

Slowly you made your way down the hall, the darkness ever eternal. Each step you took into the inky blackness, the more it pulled you into an abyss of unknown horrors. As you round a corner, a gust of wind seemingly spiraled past you, as if somebody had rushed past. Your hair rustled in the breeze, a flash of lightning struck from outside. Chills scurried up your back; pure, unadulterated fear coursed through your body like a wildfire. The candle’s flame had begun to tempt fate, before flickering out completely. 

You stared in alarm as the shadows that had been kept away prior, cast against the walls in hellish delight, forging into something _ ravenous. _ It collected itself into something of low opacity, running rampant and beckoning you to follow; floating vacantly for the longest of moments, accompanied by your _ own _ shadow. It moved with _ intelligence _, staring at you as if it were waiting for you to follow. But you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself rooted to the spot, mental chains holding you down. 

The sound of the piano continued; a siren’s tune, beckoning you despite your desire to just go back into your room and escape the _ horrors _ of the Hotel. It seemed that despite your protests, your feet moved on their own accord. Despite what safety the Hotel offered during the day, you had found unintentionally that it wasn’t _ quite _ the same during the night. Until this point, you had dodged every bullet, simply sleeping through the events that preceded the evening.

If you’d learnt anything from your time in the Underworld, it was that to stay _ alive _ trusting your gut was the way to go. In this case, your desire to stay safe told you not to go chasing after things that had the potential of being _ exceedingly dangerous. _ And yet there you were, following the shadow in a desperate attempt to find out where the music was coming from and who was responsible for the _ elegant _if not eerie tune that lured you closer and closer still.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, the rumbling of thunder outside quaking your bones. Slowly, you brought your hand to the side of your exposed arm, running it horizontally in an effort to ease the goosebumps that had appeared upon your skin. Despite your mind screaming at you to go back into the warmth of your bed, your curiosity overrode it insistently, hand trailing alongside the railing as it led you into the main lobby. _ Creak. _You cringed, the beginnings of a frown appearing upon the corners of your lips as you stepped upon a stair; and then another. Eyes finally adjusting to the absence of the light, your other hand still holding onto the blown out candle more out of a weapon of defense than anything at that moment, you scanned the scene of the room. 

At first, you hadn’t notice anything in particular _ wrong. _There was no burglar nor ghost that haunted the halls, instead, the music only caused your eyes to narrow at the corner of the room. There-- a piano that had originally had a sheet over it, shrouded in dust, was now spotless; harboring an individual upon the seat. Whoever it was had stopped playing the moment you stepped onto the last stair, straightening his back and breathing a sigh that would have been inaudible if the room hadn’t been vacant of any sort of noise. 

The sensation of television static made the hair on your neck stand up while _ also _ confirming the beginnings of suspicions that had begun to form in your mind. The closer you got, the stronger it was; and now that there was only silence, the ambience that _ he _ carried with him only got that much louder. With a flick of a dime, his person spun around with the flexibility that wasn’t humanly possible. 

Accompanied by the cracking of bones, you nearly screamed.

His grin doubled in size, eyes wide and _ glowing _ as if he were intrigued by the sudden turn of events. Like a deer caught in headlights, you stiffened as a rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning illuminated his features. Nevertheless, you discovered yourself missing the fluid notes of music that had originated from the instrument. Stupidly, you moved a few steps closer, peeling off of the railing to stand far enough away while also remaining close enough to hear his next words.

“You _ know, _ it can be _ quite _ dangerous to wander through the darkness all by your lonesome without-” his eyes moved to the melted candle that you gripped tightly enough for sweat to begin to make it uncomfortable. “- _ A light to guide you. _” There was an amused chuckle, staring at you for a moment before motioning his hand to the seat next to him, beckoning you closer. Narrowing your eyes in suspicion, you gave into the curiosity that the odd trickster evoked.

Uncertainty was powerful, your will to survive even more so as you placed the bronze casing of the candle upon the surface of the piano. You didn’t know whether or not to actually give _ into _ his request, to show the vulnerability that was trust that he wouldn’t kill you right then and there for being in his personal bubble. Rubbing your arm, you watched as he rolled his eyes, the indentations against his cheeks deepening, amused at your ever adamant wariness of him. 

_ Smart. _

The longer you remained in his presence, the easier it was to tune out the background noises of his being. “...Mind doing the honor of joining me?” His tone was chipper, enthusiastic, _ inquisitive. _Swallowing your fear, you sat down on the other side of the stool; watching the silhouette of his hands dance across the keys masterfully. You recognized it as the one that lured you here in the first place. 

_ “Didn’t take you much for a pianist.” _

You could feel his gaze on you, but you held your ground, still watching his movements with precision. Despite your eyes getting adjusted to the absence of light, it was still hard to make out the finer details. His hands also were cloaked in darkness, but if you _ squinted you could see them. _The enthusiastic tune drifted off, the audible sound of his clothing moving causing you to glance up just in time to see him wave his left hand and conjure a new candle out of thin air, the wax fresh and the wick hardly charred, rested atop the worn and dilapidated ruins of your reliable candle. 

He snapped his fingers; a flame roaring to life at the top of his index finger, silently watching him light the candlewick. You watched, the fear you harbored suddenly being swallowed by a child-like curiosity. Eyes wide and full of wonder, you tilted your head, reaching out in the direction of the candle before pulling your hand away. 

“You sure do have a way with your hands,” an uncertain smile pulled at the corners of your mouth: “how’d you learn to play so well?” He remained silent, your question going unanswered as his once-toothy and _ dangerous _grin relaxed into more of an elfish one. 

_ That seemed to be a good sign. _

His fingers flickered over the piano keys continually, sparking a minor jealousy in your heart as he played with such masterful skill and elegant confidence, your own fingers twitched as if longing to play as beautifully as he.

“A lot of practice,” His hands moved up the piano, playing a light tune, “and confidence,” he fingered a few notes, “and assurance in my ability as a pianist.” The trickster practically hummed the last part, as if this hobby was therapeutic for such an energetic ting, the closing notes of the composition drifting by like your wayward thoughts.

He stopped, “... Ever played?” you shook your head and he cast a wry smile at you, “Ever wanted to _ learn? _ ” Alastor interrupted as you were just about to reply to his odd but thoughtful questions, “You’d probably not have the _ patience. _”

This annoyed you a little, his underhanded insult sparking a reminder that he was _ still _ an asshole; his charm was an easy remedy and pulled seemingly everyone in, though his company was almost always laced with bad intentions and overall unneeded. Your mouth stretched into a displeased line, narrowing your eyes at his perpetually smug look, just _ waiting _for him to say something else.

_ “But you’d make a charming pianist… well, to look at.” _

Ugh, there’s that flattery he always uses to patch up any distaste that blossoms within his company, and _ boy did it work. _Perhaps on other people, but you? You knew better than to trust the things he said, for the most part -- when it comes to Alastor’s socializing he was a snake, you’d come to learn, sprinkled throughout were lies and deceit, if only a small glimmer of truth seeded in his expressions. 

The look he gave the piano, the way his eyes crinkled in utter joy when he played a fine piece, the smalls sighs and almost relaxed posture -- that was _ passion, _ true enjoyment from mere composition alone, given by those olden keys. It was almost _ endearing _ witnessing someone’s simple indulgences bring them so far to a pinnacle of happiness.

Another flash of lightning pulled you out of your mind, your partner looking at you expectantly as if he asked you a question.

_ “What?” _Was all you could ask, almost incredulous.

He peered at you oddly, the stormy weather and dark ambience all but illuminated his eyes in the most unnerving of ways, his expression alone could cause many’s skin to crawl.

“You’re afraid of storms…?” It was almost a statement and you realized you must’ve jumped at the flash of lightning, considering your debilitating state you didn’t doubt that you may have. 

“Maybe only right now, I seem to be afraid of _ everything _ .” You answered off-handedly, shrugging away his widening smile, “Afraid of the damn shadows, this storm, _ the fucking creaking--” _

He chuckled loudly, placing a hand to his head as if your words were a hilarious thing. You blinked slowly, trying to conjure a rebuttal, “Why, it’s the perfect weather for lounging, my dear! … Afraid of it, _ pah! _What an entertaining answer.” His eyes creased at the ends, lifting up in amusement while waving his hand in mirth in such a way that it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Second to the idea of the Hotel, of course. You couldn’t find a good counter-argument.

_ It was silly. _

Thankfully, Alastor had swiftly moved on, continuing to play casually as he kept his gaze firmly rooted on you. _ Show off _. It was a different tune this time, one that jumped from note to note gracefully in a way that only emphasised how well he could play; even if he wasn’t looking.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come down here just for a drink-” the near comedic nature of the song that rolled from the piano nearly mocked you more than his words, “_ -especially with that spider’s nonsense you’ve been dealing with. _” As if the weather wasn’t bad enough - your face contorting into a grimace at the thought of Angel. 

_ Why couldn’t you escape him? _

The grin that lined the Radio Demon’s lips strained itself in his amusement, unable to grow any larger. He’d left you stuck for words once more - turning back to the piano. Each chipper sound that sprang from the instrument at the demon’s mercy filled the void. Left to your own device, your spite began to simmer down to sheer uncomfortableness. 

You’d only come down to find out who’d been playing the piano, and now you knew. Now, with your curiosity satiated, your discomfort of being so close to him while he quite literally _ showed off _ was at an all time high. 

There was no reason for you to be there. A silence hung between the two of you as you watched him play. The longer this went on, the longer you got the feeling you’d overstayed your welcome. It was a creeping feeling upon your spine, the hairs that had laid dormant now stick up straight as your stomach coiled in nausea. There was no easy way to dimissis yourself without looking like a fool.

_ Without showing you were afraid. _

“Leaving so soon?” Alastor cooed, attention not drifting from the piano the moment you began to stand up. Despite standing up, his height still dwarfed you; his smile was still visible - the static on his voice unusually distorted to the point that you could feel it on your _ skin. _

“It’s late.” You commented, a lousy excuse. “...Goodnight Alastor.” He acknowledged your words with a nod of his head, a knowing smile still prominent on his features as he watched the candle flame flicker— his only company for the rest of the night.

As you began to exit the room, you’d hesitated; a flash of lighting causing the tension in your body to grip you. The fear reaching its peak in a single, horrifying moment - Alastor’s voice carrying through the air as the thunder passed. At first, you’d thought he hadn’t finished talking to you - your life having already flashed before your eyes only mere seconds ago.

Except, he wasn’t talking, he was_ singing. _ Or had been, whatever words that’d left his mouth now a tuneful humming. And it tugged at something in your mind -- eased you, the faintest trace of a memory coming back. It wasn’t a proper memory so to speak; but it was _ something _ and that something made you stop in your tracks. 

It wasn’t a memory in the sense that it was a vivid scene or picture, it was a fuzzy thing, a _ feeling _ that invoked solace and familiarity _ . _ You found yourself smiling at his soft humming, and in that moment, _ he didn’t seem so bad. _ With this newfound appreciation and a warmth that did nothing but make you feel _ good. _

Singing—_ his _ singing— _ comforted you. _

“Still standing there, darling?” His condescending tone fluttering through the air, prompting an eyebrow to raise irritably as you were pulled out of your high. _ You could hear the grin in his voice; _you narrowed your eyes, turning to look back at him with an annoyed-- yet still charmed smile, an odd mix of expressions for sure, but it did nothing but further provoke Alastor’s attention.

He quickly turned; making you jump, _ yet again. _

A mirthful smile of his own, not entirely impish, was directed at you; scoffing at his _ seemingly _ genuine expression, you simply returned yet another look, this time one that looked entirely fed up with his bullshitery.

“_Oh, well… _ I’m just here to make sure you’re not going to keep playing,” you replied through gritted teeth, sharply looking at a large grandfather clock that stood in the corner, “at, I don’t know, _ three _in the morning?” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t _ dream _ of it, my dear.” He rested his head on his hands, batting his eyelashes at you _ oh-so innocently _ , and you might’ve fell for it taking your overall pissiness and exhaustion out of the equation. Your lips twitched as if they were about to pull into a smile, daring you to laugh at his _ pure, undeniably hideous acting. _

But you didn’t.

All you did was storm off, and he watched as you went, hearing your footsteps linger onwards, muffling out, each becoming more distant. Your annoyance lingered on, he could _ taste _ it in his mouth -- and it was a sweet flavor _ indeed._

Oh but no, his endeavors wouldn’t end there.

_ They had only just begun. _


	13. THE THING - with the Monocle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in such a short amount of time? Aren't you spoiled! 
> 
> For those of you on the server - did you manage to guess what would happen from the spoiler reel? For those who haven't yet joined [make sure to](https://discord.gg/XgXkrD4), it's practically drowning in sinners by this point!
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE
> 
> This chapter was _heavily_ inspired by 'The Thing'!

The warm embrace of sleep had begun to take your resting form to the other side; blessed with pure and utter relaxation after a night of horror. It was that wondrous time when nothing could disturb the transition to the dreamworld.

_THUMP_

Eyes sealed shut, white hot fear pierced your body. The tightness in your chest hurt as you remained perfectly still - suffocated by the heat that had once comforted you.

_What the Hell was it now?_

Images of that thing in the hallway crossed your mind; the shadow you’d seen, reimbursing a sense of dread within you. Something was _in_ your room. Drawing in a shaky breath, you found the courage to pull down the covers. You’d already been clinging to them for dear life anyway - your eyes sealed through the whole process, every other sense strained for any sort of noise or disturbance in the environment.

With your body exposed to the unnatural chill in the air, you peeled back an eyelid, then another. The darkness void of any sign of life. The sound had come from beneath the bed though - your torment not over as you lay there with only the knowledge that you were already dead for reassurance.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t die again of course.

The air was trapped in your lungs as you slipped your hands beneath your body - head light as you saw black dots swim around your vision. Just because it wasn’t in front of you didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Just because you were on your bed didn’t make you safe. The only thing you could do if you wanted any chance of sleeping was to see what it was. You were brave.

You’d run from demons...that was a terrible example but you’d survived in Hell this long; what was it going to be? Husk’s moody face?

Your fingers curled around the edge of the bed - digging into the mattress as you brought yourself to the edge. The creak of the springs made your soul cry out; flinching as your insides churned. No light touched the space between the floor and the edge of your bed.

Chest heaving by this point; you could have been sick.

But you weren’t going to chicken out; lowering your body onto the mattress below you and hanging your head off the side. Lower and lower until your peeked into the darkness - eyes wide in fear, a fear of nothing.

_There was nothing._

There was nothing beneath your bed that could have made that noise. It was probably somebody moving around the hotel; sound travelled weird like that. It’d only take you another hour to settle before you’d come close to sleep again, but there was nothing there. A hand fumbling for the duvet, you kept a close eye on the darkness beneath you.

Soon, you lowered yourself onto your side, duvet pulled across yourself defensively. You’d had enough excitement for one night, you thought with a huff. _Too much._

And now, it was time to sleep.

Duvet held tight to your body, you rolled onto your back to get settled; seizing up as the colour drained from your face - mouth agape as the scream that’d lurched into your throat never left. Terror coursing through your veins at the sight of that - _thing._

It hung from the ceiling; drooping like it’s body was too heavy for the distorted limbs that kept it there - claw tipped protrusions fastening it to the roof as fragments of paint chips fell from above. It’s outline was unlike any demon you’d seen; lanky and painstakingly humanoid, even as its neck folded back on itself with grotesque display of piercing eyes and teeth.

It was _far_ from human though.

If anything truly belonged in Hell, _that_ did; air failing you as your chest heaved short sharp breaths. It jittered, as if threatening to fall - but its voice; high pitched whines were interrupted by bursts of what could have been other voices, reversed snippets of sound piercing the air.

Then you moved.

You’d reached for the bedside table, a single hand almost slamming down against the nightstand in an attempt to grab something. The search immediately abandoned as a guttural cry tore through the creature’s throat. Your hands flying to your face as something warm splashed against it - your hands soon coated in a viscous liquid as you threw yourself from the bed. Collapsing to the ground, you scrambled to your feet - gaze darting to the ceiling to watch as it detached itself onto the bed below, shattering the main frame. You crashed into the wall, stumbling over your feet as it adjust its body, spine twisting on itself as it brought an arm over its head, the other pulled from underneath it.

The saliva that dripped from its maw shone in the dim light from the door - your only escape.

You’d crashed into the wooden frame in two steps, snatching the handle and ripping it open. You didn’t look back this time either - you ran. Straight into the first door you saw; behind you, the shrieks of the monster telling you it had followed. With the door slammed shut behind you, you twist the lock; knowing full damn well it wouldn’t stop whatever the _fuck_ that goddamn thing was!

You were shaking.

Pacing around for some sort of protection, you caught sight of your reflection; the colour having drain from your face. Sheet white. You were a ghost. You would be a ghost. Nothing - _nothing_ \- in Hell looked more ready to put you in a grave than that. It couldn’t even speak; panic overriding your system as you searched for a weapon of some sort, tried to think of a plan.

_Surely the others had heard it, right?_ Maybe if you screamed loud enough somebody would come for you.

And you did scream - the door nearly splitting in half as that thing through itself against the frame; giant splinters caving inwards as shrapnel was scattered against the tiles. An beastial roar shook the room, followed by a rumbling as it prepared itself for another round. It rammed itself into the door once more - a deer-like horn piercing the frame and becoming wedged.

You saw yourself impaled on it - the horn sliding back through the door and catching against the frame. You saw it then; a fire extinguisher beneath the sink. Diving for it, you snatched the contraption in your grasp, rifling through a cupboard to find a spray bottle and a lighter. The items seemed forlorn in a bathroom, but you hadn’t the time to think about this as you heard a garbled scream, that _thing_ preparing for yet another, and likely final, attempt to quite literally break down the door with it’s massive body.

You watched in horror as it’s sickly tendrils writhed beneath the door, trying to worm its way into where _you were_.

In a desperate thought, you came to an epiphany - quickly, and with sudden resolve to survive this encounter you had decided upon using the spray bottle, unsure of its contents but _worth a try_, using this newfound lighter to catch the stream on fire -- a wave of fire roared to life, it’s heat explosive and highly effective against the wildly thrashing tendrils.

Another shrill sound could be heard, pained, _suffering_, but not a trace of sympathy fled into your mind as you watched its appendages retreat.

You kicked down the door of the bathroom, armed with your makeshift flamethrower - _it doesn’t like heat_, you thought and were ready to set that bitch on fire when--

_Nothing was there._

Nothing, as in, no creature; you didn’t let up, however, and hurriedly peered around the room with spray bottle outstretched in hand, lighter in the other. Looking up at the ceiling once more, nothing was there, it looked like nothing _had_ been there. You shook your head with a frown, prepared for it’s arrival.

A few seconds pass, silence.

A sudden bump and you were swiveling around, already beginning a wave of fire aimed at the perfectly pristine bathroom door. You’d quickly stopped.

“_Something the matter?_” A familiar, smug tone almost _sung_, his feigned concern almost tempted you to use your little toy on _him_.

Adrenaline proceeded to course through you, your heart rate fast, eyes still searching every crevice the room had to offer; Alastor had become the least of your problems, for now, his presence paled in comparison to that thing you had witnessed - he was an annoyance, though.

“W...what are you doing in here?” you inquired sharply, quickly, his eyes glowing with delight, “That thing still might be in here.” Voice a whisper, it prompted your new - and rather welcome - companion to look around.

You could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously, as if you were some child having a nightmare and you’d just asked _mommy_ to look under the bed for monsters. After quickly glancing around the vicinity, his eyes flickered to yours and narrowed at your bold expression. He raised an eyebrow condescendingly.

“What _thing_, my dear? All I see is a disheveled employee who _should be asleep,_” you’d lit up another stream of fire again and almost jumped, surprise written on his features.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that-- I _know_ what I saw.” You refused to hear his words, cutting off the stream again to see his smile twisted into a visible strained one, almost a grimace, “We need to get more fuel for this, it’s running low; we can make a break for the lobby, look for a--”

You eyes searched his in inner hysteria, and sighed. _Perhaps it’d been too much._ “No, that won’t be necessary,” he shook his head and a nearly empty spray can whipped passed his head, missing him only by an inch; it soared passed the candle he so _graciously_ had returned to you from the gallery, your off-handed aim expertly putting out only its flame, save for making the candleholder itself wobble slightly upon skimming.

The room was darker now, his eyes brighter. There is silence, the only ambience howling wind and loud pattering from the horrid storm outside, it’s noises causing a visible flinch to emerge from your reflexes.

“_Leave,_” Alastor only narrows his eyes in response.

You flatten your hands against the wall, pocketing the lighter _just in case_ and sought out to find a light switch - running your hands along the wall, you could only see Alastor’s silhouette growing closer as you searched.

“But,” he started and you growled, “with you so _shaken_, would it be a good idea? ...Perhaps you need a _babysitter?_” You remember that, indeed, there was no power to the establishment and you were making a fool of yourself.

His words caught your ear quickly, however, and you gaze snapped to his form next to you. That condescending, motherly tone back and more prominent than ever in his venom-laced words, sending you into another fit entirely. He leaned down while he spoke, towering over your much smaller form in what seemed to be mockery, even giving your cheek a light squeeze with his clawed hand - still treating you as if you were a child, something lesser than him.

_You already had the adrenaline to just pick him up and throw him out the door._

In the blind fit of fury, you’d taken his collar, the demon essentially begging for it as he loomed over you - your noses practically touching as you dropped your voice this time.

“_Get the fuck out, before I remove you myself._” You hissed, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement. You could see it in those smug eyes, noticeably furrowing at your utter dismay - a mocking smile contorting your features as you tried your damned hardest to keep it together. As you shoved him aside, Alastor simply adjusted his collar, straightening himself out with a merry brush of his hair.

“Are you _sure?_” He hummed, peering down his nose with narrowed eyes.

Much to nobody’s surprise, you’d reeled back your arm - and the fist attached to it had collided with Alastor’s face. It knocked the monocle clean off his annoying face, the _Radio Demon_ lifting a hand to his face and yet that goddamn smile remained. He didn’t even look shocked.

Your teeth grit in an attempt to keep the pain that’d erupted in your hand low key, but blood was quick to pool at your wounds and even drip onto the carpet.

The trickster gazed at you from under his lashes, going to adjust his monocle only to be kindly reminded it was on the floor, shattered by the little one that stood so _bravely_ in front of him. Instead, he folded his arms behind his back.

“_Tsk, tsk_, taking your aggression out on another? My dear, I thought better of you!” his chipper tone was quick to dismantle this tension, his face thoroughly satisfied with your reaction and would _hopefully bruise in the morning._

He shakes his head dramatically, “... but perhaps it is time that I leave, though I worry about your behavior,” he cast a motherly gaze at you, eyelids lidded and speaking again in that _voice_, the kind you would speak to your _pets_ with.

He sauntered past your shaking person, not from fear, far from it now, but from pure, unbridled annoyance and anger. You were fuming, and continued to do so as he spared you an attempted subtle glance from the corner of his eye, opening the door slightly ajar and stepping out slowly.

“_Oh and,_” you were about to scream at him, “_you’ve got a damn good arm on you._” And that was the last thing you heard before you slammed the door on his face, his smile nearly face-splitting; the door was quickly locked and you waited to hear his footsteps, just to instill some sense of comfort within you.

Sighing, you slide against the door in exhaustion, almost falling asleep in that position. You stayed there for a few moments, hearing out for any noises and when you didn’t hear the distinguishable tapping of his shoes against the floorboards, you massage your temple in sheer stress.

The last of your strength was used to straighten yourself out, gazing at your one true lover - the bed, that soft…_thick_, expensive bed. The one that didn’t mind to hold you every night, all night, didn’t mind to comfort your stress and woes; your adrenaline was fading as well as your will to live, but your will to sleep was as strong as ever, and you force yourself on unsteady legs towards your lover for the upteenth time that night.

Literally falling into the confines of your covers, sleep was immediately gifted to your worn self; nothing to worry about, no more monsters lurking in the dark, but perhaps there was one _right outside your door_.

Oblivious to his deceit, his smile, the proud strides he took down the hall as if he owned the place. The horror-filled night only anguish for you, though fruitful and positively _exhilarating_ for him.

He licked his lips, appetite sated _for now._


	14. Stir The Pot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Friday's update! Thanks for being so patient!
> 
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> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

Waking up had never been so _ dreadful. _

Your alarm --set on Niffty’s insistence-- rang off the walls; causing you to groan, reach over, and slam your fist down onto the metal. It wasn’t a cheap thing (nothing in this Hotel was), but your desire to go back to sleep was stronger than the pain that suddenly coursed up your arm when it connected with the object. 

It didn’t turn off, instead vibrating around the end table and somehow ending _ just out of your reach. _The thought of chucking it out the window wasn’t the first idea that crossed your mind. With a groan, you sat up, casting daggers at it before rubbing your eyes blearily. Sleep was very much attached to you in that sense, and despite the badgering of the alarm clock, you took your sweet time with stretching. 

The morning light trickled in from the open blinds; dousing the room in a light red hue instead of a welcoming yellow_. _ It was always _ red. _Adjusting yourself to let your legs dangle off the edge of the bed, you reached over and grabbed the clock; the smallest of frowns dancing upon your lips. You held it in your hands, the constant metallic trill bouncing off the walls, but to you, it was faded background noise.

There was a creeping feeling of _ dread _ upon your shoulders as you took the time to reflect upon the previous night. It made you want to leap off of the bed as you recall the faint crash that’d echoed from beneath the bed, then - picturing it was enough to invoke another dose of adrenaline to scour through your body. A dull ache throbbed across your hand, causing you to look at the hand that clenched the clock. Black and blue knuckles; a somewhat more pleasant memory you bore the wounds for. 

Still, you didn’t want to dwell on the past for once, wishing you could _ forget _ it; not that your dreams would let you of course - nightmares. _ Damn night terrors. _ It’d all been in your head, that was it, one big _ figment _ of your imagination that embodied Hell into a grotesque mass that hung from above you. A weight upon your shoulders! Clearly that was it, you just had to let it all go. That was right. 

When you’d been awake, that was a false start. 

When you’d been asleep, the disjointed maw of the creature snapping your neck clean in two - that was all the evidence you needed to come to the conclusion that it had simply been brought on by sleep deprivation. Slowly, you moved your thumb to the button-- pressing it in and ending the shrill chime of the clock once and for all. With a sigh, you fell back onto the bed, the mattress bouncing underneath the sudden disturbance. 

Running your hands through your hair, you lifted yourself back up with a grunt and hopped off of the bed. 

You opened the closet, the rustic doors creaking audibly against your favor. There wasn’t much to pick from in terms of _ style_, but there _ were _different color choices. Instantly, you were attracted to the lighter of shades, as if the complexion would scare away whatever shadows still lurked on your form. 

_ Blue looked good on you. _

Nevertheless, you were eager to get out of the room once and for all, for your sacred space had been violated and torn to shreds by your _ mind_. The memory left a foul taste on your tongue, chills trailing up your neck and causing the hair to raise instinctively. The one room where you had felt _ safe_, was taken from your grasp. 

There were a plethora of rooms to choose from in the Hotel, and despite Charlie probably not minding if you decided to up and move to a separate one—_ would it really matter? _Would it happen _ again? _ Had it really been your _ mind _ playing tricks on you? It had felt as real as the way your fingers played with the fabric of your shirt; the texture soothing you and bringing you back into a state of reality. 

Letting out an uneven sigh, you turned your head; anxiety and paranoia telling you to make sure nothing was going to sneak up behind you. The only thing that was of informality was the dust that floated through the room, visible by the streams of light that brightened up the room _ that _ much more. 

Moving to the other side of the bed, you noted the candle that had been earnestly and _ innocently _ given back to you by Alastor. _ That part had been real, as if you needed any additional reminders from the throbbing of your fist. _

Leaning down, you pick it up, frowning at the wax that was now stuck to the once flawless carpet. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find it in yourself to clean it up at that moment. The spray can was next, this time reaching over the counter to remove it. You cringed at the marks on the wall, _ burn marks, _from you using your makeshift flamethrower. 

You shake your head.

The bathroom floor was colder than it needed to be, the sudden change from fluffy warm carpeting to tiling made a hiss fall from your lips. _ On second thought_, you look down at the nearly empty can, shaking it a few times before briskly turning it around and placing it gently back next to the table beside you. 

_ Just in case. _

With a swing of the door, you let yourself out into the extended hallway. It was quiet at first, the excited chatter only becoming audible by the time you reached the turn which lead to the stairway. What you could hear, you guessed, was Charlie chattering away and the common background noise that filled the silence. 

It didn’t take you long to reach the flight of stairs; letting your hand glide against the railing, immediately setting your sights onto the new _ guest _ that had been all the talk. Your eyebrows immediately rose to their absolute highest, surprise evident on your features at the realization of who it was.

“Oh hello, darling!” The scaled hand of the Alligator woman waving at you from across the room and beckoning you closer. Whatever traces of exhaustion quickly faded away into curiosity, a ghost of a smile pulling at your lips. 

Passing by the kitchen, the scent of something pleasing wafted into your nose, immediately making your stomach growl with the intent of ingesting whatever it was that had created the scent. Peeking in, eyebrows knitted, you noted the second to last individual you wanted to see in that moment, putting a damper on your mood in _ seconds. _

_ He was cooking. _

You nearly lost it at the sight of him in an apron, a semi-red apron, almost _ pink _ in appearance_. _ You squinted at the words _ ‘Don’t Kiss the Radio Demon’ _ in large, sparkly, deep red letters, adorning the ornate apron he bore. He was humming while he cooked, currently craning himself down to take something out of the oven— at least your humor wasn’t impaired. 

With a roll of your eyes, you ducked back out of the kitchen before he could notice your presence, but you caught sight of him swivel his head around just before you retreated. 

Perhaps he already _ knew _ and he wasn’t acting upon it, which you silently praised God himself for because if _ that _ were to happen, you wouldn’t get out of that conversation even if it were your second death wish. You wouldn’t lie to yourself and say that whatever he was doing smelled good, because _ it did _and your stomach rumbles in favor of the thought for a second time. 

“Oh my gosh, they look _ amazing_!” Charlie’s voice was enthusiastic, motioning to the plate of candied apples. Her happiness was contagious, your eyes mirthful as you strolled up beside her. You suddenly felt incredibly _ dwarfed _in comparison to the individuals that stood around you.

_ You felt bad for Niffty. _

“Your hospitality won’t go unnoticed, Miss...” she trailed off, looking at you for a moment before the alligator lifted up a singular claw and spoke. 

“Just Allie, dear.” 

Husk nearly lost his shit, howling in laughter from his positioning against the wall where he had been silently eavesdropping on the conversation. “Of course it’s fuckin’ Allie. She’s a fuckin’ _ Alligator.” _You saw Charlie stiffen, nearly in time with your own.

_ He fucked up. _

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the old woman as she gave a restrained grin in his direction, her teeth adorning the majority of her face and ultimately appearing far more _ threatening _ than you would have expected any sweet, old lady to be. He watched as she approached him, wearily making her way with her cane to guide her.

And then, as if she hadn’t needed the cane to begin with, she spun it around and hit him directly between the eyes with enough precision to ensure the fact that she most likely had experience in defending herself. His head slammed against the wall with a loud _ ‘FUCK’, _ rubbing at his face with his hand. Your attention found its way back to Allie who you suddenly had a _ lot _ more respect for. 

Charlie’s jaw hung slack, the Princess at odds with herself as her eyes widened; caught somewhere between horror and amusement.

“Ah-” she choked, staring at the scene as she fumbled for you - digits pawing your arm. “You wouldn’t mind giving Allie a tour - please?” Charlie turned to you on the ‘please’, her usually happy demeanor tainted by concern.

“You two know each other so I think it’d be better if you did it!” As she explained her reasoning behind why you, the _ cleaner_, should show around Allie, her smile grew; obvious excitement becoming prominent. “It’ll be your chance to shine!” 

What other choice did you have than to agree? 

“Of course!” You chirped, nervously. _ It wasn’t like you could say no to your manager_, but the opportunity to spend some time with Allie was what sold it to you. 

“_Oh thank you! _ ” Charlie squeaked, offering you a wide grin, bouncing on her toes as she escorted you towards the aforementioned Alligator and a sulking Husk. “Miss Allie, _ if I may _ , would you like a tour of the hotel since you’re here?” She sounded so professional, and yet the giddy undertones _ still managed _ to slip through - even if Allie hadn’t showed an interest in _ staying _ yet, she’d at least shown an interest in the _ hotel_.

_ The first sign of business_. 

Allie’s expression softened with the kind of look a _ grandmother _ could at the sight of her grandchildren. It was warm, joyous, radiating a comforting aura. So what if she’d just clobbered Husk over the head, _ she was precious_. 

“Of _ course _ darling, I’d love a tour!” Charlie still had it together - practically buzzing as she spoke, tone notably an octave higher.

“_Great!_” She chimed - nearly shoving you forwards, you yourself stumbling a few steps. “I’ll leave you to it! Take _ all _the time you need!” You glanced back at her with wide eyes 

“Why thank you dearie, it’s not everyday you have an opportunity to see the work Lucifer’s own daughter has produced. I think it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing here - good to see someone with a fresh take on Hell.” Charlie’s pale face was aflame, although she didn’t seem entirely thrilled at her words. Perhaps it was from the sheer embarrassment, recoiled from the statement with quiet thanks. 

You’d taken it upon yourself to begin the tour anyway, guiding Allie away from the scene.

Allie plod along beside you, taking her time to inspect the hotel while you moved forward, dipping into hallways, explaining the blueprint of the Hotel from what you knew. You hadn’t been here very long. Whenever you stopped she’d engage with that you were saying; inquiring and pointing out even small details about the hotel you hadn’t noticed.

It made the place seem a little bit more _ charming_, those minuscule touches of detail you’d overlooked and the way she managed to describe it all with a _ passion. _You finally grasped the idea of why she was a tailor; her expertise in picking out small details only worked in her favor. 

_ She deserved everything she had. _

“Ignore the mess, we’ve been trying to find a home for the paintings.” You quickly said as you caught a glimpse of them as you approached. Yet, the intrigued ‘ooo’ that spilled from Allie in sheer intrigue and curiosity only showed her lack of concern for the _ mess_. You supposed being under Alastor’s watchful gaze had you on your toes, eager to not _ mess up. _

“A portrait of the Magne family!”

_ The who now? _

She’d come to a halt after ushering towards the paintings with an energy you didn’t know she possessed, her tail swishing in delight as the alligator peered up at the large image, clasping her claws together in what seemed to be endearment. _ “Oh, look at them!” _ piping up, Allie had turned to look at you with excited eyes, “A _ true _ family, that is, truly something _ Hell _can be proud of!” 

You glanced up, assessing the masterpiece; painting large and lined with an expensive frame as if to emphasize its importance, _ its status. _

You sent her a confused frown, “The _ Magne _ family?” You trailed off into a question only for her to nod, her look deflating only _slightly _ as if taken aback by your lack of knowledge. You didn’t particularly blame her, it was a _ tad _ foolish to be in this place without having a clue on its intricate fundamentals or political climate.

“The head honcho of Hell,” she tapped her cane lightly in the general direction of a rather funny looking thing, “Lucifer,” she continued and you could only squint in amusement at the pipsqueak of a ruler, “His wife, Lillith, and of course you know Charlie. The Magne family.” The darling alligator summarized, glancing at your face as you _ were trying not to laugh. _

You nodded quickly, but then, your eyes caught sight of something painted carefully in the bottom right corner, only a mere sliver of it was viewable.

_ It was a stool. _

_ Lucifer was standing on a stool. _

You almost lost it then and there, lungs flexing in your struggle against your will, your mouth twitching; a laugh threatening to burst from your lips while Allie looked so _ kindly _at your face. You could tell she harbored a lot of respect for the family, and the last thing you wanted to do was disrespect something she liked.

“Let’s move on,” it took everything from you to just say that _ one thing_, hardly even a _ sentence _ as you cleared your throat and beckoned your sweet company to follow. She waddled after you and your heart warmed at the sight, babbling all the while about the paintings, the nice carpet, random little tidbits of information that were just _ endearing. _

You paraded around your room with a sense of pride, using it as a prime example of the quarters the hotel had to offer; finally taking Allie on the last stretch of the tour. 

_ Everything was going fine. _

_ Fine _ until you almost crashed into a pink and white striped mass. Allie had barely stopped you, a scaly hand catching you as the other flew to the tip of her snout in shock.

“_Woah_, hey-” your eyes locked; Angel stiffening as he stared down at you, quick to avert his gaze with a frown, “watch where ‘yer goin’.” He sounded tired, eyes bloodshot from either lack of sleep or his possession of drugs that you _ still kept secret for his sake. _

_ “Yer gonna get hurt walkin’ round careless like that.” _

Certainly dismissive; offering Allie a half-assed smile as he passed on by. That damned spider - you knew there was _ no way _ he hadn’t not heard your screams last night, considering how close your room was to his. He was probably too high to do anything, not that would have even if he _ wasn’t _high. 

Allie watched you from the corner of her eye.

You were tense, a frown adorning your face as you watched him disappear down the hallway. 

“I suppose there’s a reasoning behind your frown?” Allie’s voice snapped you from your exasperated thoughts; blinking at her a couple of times as it sunk in what exactly had left her mouth. You failed to respond in the time it took for her to rest her shaky hand on your shoulder. 

“I-“ 

The look in her eyes made you feel _ cornered. _ It wasn’t necessarily in a _ bad _ way; your thoughts running rampant as you wondered if it was truly okay to detach from your _ work _ and express and share your inner demons. You _ hated feeling so useless_, so _ uncertain of where to go next. _ Was there some sort of mental path you had to take to go to bigger and better things, or were you going to eternally be a _ cleaner for the Hotel? _

_ “No.” _

But you stood up straight, despite only reaching her her upper abdomen in height, placing your hand on hers with a small pat. _ You had to be strong. _ “Angel is an _ asshole,” _ you began, and once you let that phrase slip from your lips, you continued to rant about everything that annoyed you about him and how he practically _ betrayed _ your trust. 

A series of _ ‘I see’ _ and _ ‘yes’ _ we’re given to you as she nodded her head along, letting you express all of the horrors that plagued your mind with a _ sickening _ intensity. 

“You really _ are _ in Hell, dear...” Allie sighed, bringing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose; her weak smile reinforcing the emotion behind this action, “did you think it was going to be _ fun _ living here?” You didn’t know what to say, her expression softened as she motioned for you both to walk and this time _ you _ followed _ her. _She kept a hand against your waist, guiding you along the hall.

“I’ve been here a long, long time and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy for me either.” She began. “Now, I have my own shop and try to live as _ peacefully _ as I can.” The alligator explained her story, how she’d fallen down and the struggles she faced: how demons would walk all over you, as Angel had done, if you let them. It was reminiscent of what Charlie had told you; and you started to ask yourself if it was something you were actually supposed to _ listen to. _

Maybe there was some truth hidden within the depths of their extravagant speeches.

“I don’t know much about you or Angel, dear, but from what I’m hearing, he is just looking out for himself. I understand that even if he is selfish about it, my dear, you need to learn that this place is not somewhere you can just throw your trust around aimlessly.” Although you did feel a twinge of irritation that she’d sided with Angel, it made sense what she said; hearing it from her made it _ possible _to see why he’d behaved in such a way. 

“It takes time to build relationships even when you’re alive; but now we’re not only _ dead, _ dear, but we’re in _ Hell. _You need to watch your back, there’s a lot of demons that can’t wait to see your head on a silver platter.” Her descriptions made it easier to believe her phrases, it instilled a sense of uncertainty and nausea low in your stomach. 

“But _ why? _I haven’t done anything.” 

She stopped in her movements, resting her hand against your cheek in a motherly display. “Oh, but you have.” Your lips pulled into a frown, staring up at her through your lashes. “Dear, you are _ kind— _ it’s a rarity in this circle of Hell. Some worship that, others are threatened; _ many _will see it as a weakness.” She then narrowed her eyes at you.

“Has he tried to apologize?” You purse your lips, nodding in response before speaking.

“I mean- I _ think. _ I kinda… _ shut him down_…” you trailed off, looking off to the side, Allie’s eyebrow twitching upwards. You felt like a _ child. _She didn’t say anything - but you knew what she would have said: she was telling you to listen. You should have listened to Angel when he tried to apologize to you. 

You’d just been so _ angry_. 

The tour came to an end and you quietly thanked Allie for her wisdom, embarrassed but grateful to have spoken with her; in turn, she thanked you for the tour - the pair of you heading for the staircase; your hands tracing the wall gingerly, gently continuing the conversation of an entirely different topic that you were _ entirely thrilled _to speak of. 

How your clothing had come out. 

She complimented on how it fit to your form and gentle feminine curves with elegance even when you didn’t _ try. _ It was common attire, something that made you look down with a flushed face. It didn’t look like anything wonderful, but then again, your self confidence was at an all-time _ low. _“Thanks,” you beamed, turning the corner only to slam into a wall that hadn’t been there before. 

_ Except, it wasn’t a wall at all. _

There was a grunt that was pushed from your lips, moving back and rubbing the top of your head with a frown. His arm had found your other upper arm, holding you steady before abruptly letting go. There wasn’t a word passed to you as you walked backwards, standing side by side with Allie. 

_ Alastor. _

He was looking from you, to Allie, and then back to you, the air around you holding a wave of radio static. Allie must have not been used to it, sparing her a glance and seeing her stiffen. At least, you _ supposed _ it was because of the static. “You get used to it,” you commented briefly, reaching up on your tippy toes to pat her shoulder just like she had done effortlessly. Allie herself was _ surprised _ at how at ease you were in the presence of one of the only individuals Hell _ feared. _

Before you could read her expression further, you glanced back at your new _ guest. _ Entirely unwelcome. You hated how he just was _ there _when he hadn’t been only a moment before, explaining as to why you had blindly walked straight into him. 

“A guest!” He tilted his head, his grin expanding with an intensity; he was in his normal attire again, you noted. He quickly held out a hand, his microphone in the other. “Well, _ this _ is the first one we’ve got since the hotel opened!” Hesitating, Allie shook his hand in which he accepted with exuberant enthusiasm. Letting her hand go, you watched as he brushed down the garments that adorned his frame. He looked down at you then, your expression remaining neutral and totally _ done _with his antics. 

He grabbed your arm, pulling you to him in one fellow swoop, pinching your cheeks in the process just to annoy you _ that much more. _ “Thanks to this _ lovely little darling _ here, of course! Wouldn’t you agree, Allie?” Her eyes flickered between the two of you as you pulled and pushed against him to attempt to get his hold off of you. He didn’t, instead grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You bared your teeth in a grimace, watching his own lips stretch into a shit-eating _ grin. _

“Why, maybe you should go out more often!” A stupid laugh track played before he released his death grip on you, letting you return to Allie’s side again. You rubbed your jaw with your hand gently, hissing at the tenderness that still radiated off of it. There was a crash in the kitchen and a shrill ‘_fuck!’ _ from Angel Dust, causing his _ ears _ to twitch at the sudden sound, clearing his throat. 

“As _ swell _ as it was for you to introduce me to such a lovely dame,” you hadn’t even _ said _ anything. He had probably eavesdropped on the entirety of your conversation anyway: “I really must be on my way, _ quite a pleasure!” _He gave a dramatic bow before spinning on the heels of his shoes and moving back to the kitchen. 

_ Good riddance. _

“Um,” you said finally, breaking the silence, looking up at the alligator demon that you had befriended. “W-would you like some tea?” You rubbed the palm of your hand against the back of your neck, motioning for her to follow you to the _ other _end of the kitchen. You refused to go through the same one that the pompous, cheesy bastard had disappeared into. 

Allie and yourself had spoken on the way around the hotel, but it was nice to sit with her - _ appreciate _ her company. She sat on the couch next to you, merrily related tales to you from her life, both present and past like you were her grandchild; a cup of tea in her hand. When she’d asked about yourself, you quickly mentioned you couldn’t remember much, only that you enjoyed singing and remembered something about _ water. _

Ironic, considering she was an _ alligator. _

When she’d asked you to sing, your face had set aflame and a flurry of ‘no’s’ being released. Allie chuckled away at your bashful refusal. Eventually, the tea was gone and she rose; stating that it was best for her to take her leave. You’d been disheartened by this, finding her company _ pleasant _. You set aside her tea cup momentarily, seeing her to the door where she asked you to thank Charlie for you - surprisingly not doing it herself, yet she seemed to shift uncomfortably - making you wonder if it had something to do with Alastor. 

_ It probably had something to do with Alastor. _

Nevertheless, you promised her you’d do just that, bidding goodbye to your _ friend _ ; certain she was one even if you’d only known each other for a few hours. She seemed to care about you, then again, Angel had seemed that way too. You were sorely wrong in that field, maybe you were just being _ too _ soft, but you sincerely doubted she’d double cross you. 

With her gone, you were left with the cup, you yourself not having one _ quite yet, _before deciding it best to wash it; it was common courtesy after all. 

With a sigh, you went back over to the counter, picking it up and walking towards the kitchen. The double doors swinging as you passed through them— immediately, the scent of freshly baked spices and goods entered your sensitive nose, seeing the creator of such mouthwatering scents. Silently, you crept over to the sink which just happened to be right next to where he was_. Just your luck._

_ The memory of the previous night was still very much fresh on your mind. _

You filled the cup up with water, moving your arm to grab the soap to clean it further. There were words that wanted to escape the confines of your lips, to _ question _ the meaning behind all of this _ food _ that would no doubt take up the majority of what had been stored in the refrigerator and freezer. He was humming, sprinkling salt over some sort of meaty dish that you _ instantly _ thought of as _ human. _

Of course, that was just because you were paranoid around him, even if his actions last night at the piano had been a bit _ charming. _

“Why’re you doing this?” The words escaped you before you could stop them, you could see his grin widen in your peripheral vision as you busied yourself with cleaning the cup. It didn’t take too long, considering that you were now just scrubbing to _ scrub. _ You weren’t against the idea of a feast; you just thought it would have been more enjoyable without him or Angel. Your bitter thoughts were simply laced together from your lack of sleep, and because it was a _ lot _easier to hold a grudge than just accept it as it was. 

You wouldn’t lie and say that Allie’s words hadn’t hit home, though. Perhaps, if Angel tried again, you would give him the chance to appease you. But would you seek him out? _ Nope. _You truly were a stubborn girl.

“Oh, my poor, stressed employee,” he stopped his humming, confidently turning to you just as you put the cup down to the side to let it dry_. _“-worn from your night terrors,” his eyes narrowed, your movements ceasing. 

You turned to look at him, crossing your arms for mainly your _ comfort._ “And _ you.” _You drummed your bruised knuckles against your arm, watching as his eyes flickering down to it, his grin expanding, eyes crinkling at the edges mirthfully before he chuckled.

“I’m _ delighted _ you asked! I couldn’t help but feel a little _ frazzled _ from our encounter last night,” _ Oh, _ ** _he_ ** _ felt frazzled. _ “So, _ I _thought something like this would put a smile on your face!” 

_ Excuse me, what? _

He looked _ enthused _ by your reaction, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water. “For _ me?” _You narrowed your eyes, entirely disbelieving of what he insisted on making you believe. 

“_Well, I don’t see why not!”_ He leaned down again, bringing a hand to your face and squeezing your cheeks in a condescending maternal way. You were beginning to speculate over the idea that he had some sort of interest in your face, considering how much he _ affirmed _ his grip on you. You brought your own hand up and swatted his hand away successfully, his grin stretching to its limit, but he still remained hunched over to be closer to you. 

_ You stood your ground this time instead of backing down_. 

“My dear, you’ve been _ oh, so burdened _ with these measly, silly tasks, and what better way to unwind than _ this!” _ He spun on his heel, motioning with his hands in a _ specific _ way towards the table. Before your eyes, decorations adorned the surface, tea pots, plates, cups, and even simple aesthetic ones upon it. You felt your arms unravel themselves, your current state of _ awe _ making you whisper under your breath in disbelief: 

_ “...A tea party.” _

“Yes indeedy!” Was his only response, your attention being pulled to the new face in the kitchen, Charlie. Her face was shrouded in a grin, hopping up and down as she walked over to you. 

“Isn’t it great!?”

Brow furrowing but a slight smile adorned your lips, conflicted awe tracing your features, “Uhhh…” Charlie’s large eyes gazed at you. You winced, feigning a larger smile, “Yeahhh, I suppose it is?” She squealed, her hands suddenly seized your shoulders.

“You _ have _ to attend! Look at all that hard work Alastor is putting into baking all the food!” she bounced, motioning to the intricately set table and rather fancy china, “And he’s making _ scooones_~!” Your face was pressed against hers as she hugged you in utmost giddiness, the broken smile you presented pulled itself into a thin line of annoyance - not with Charlie, heavens no, but with _ Alastor. _

This act of kindness was shady, _ he _was shady. After the stunt you’d pulled last night, shattering that precious monocle of his, you didn’t doubt his intentions were laced with revenge.

You made a face, the bitter consequences swarming your thoughts with terrible things.

_ He probably poisoned your food. _

Gaze suddenly leaping to said demon, prepared for him to brandish a butcher knife and jab it through your throat merrily, your anxiety only crept further up as you noticed he was _ staring. _ It wasn’t his usual off-handed look, you’d come to realize when he was feigning interest - he seemed… _ perplexed_, though a pleasant _ softness _ graced his features you’d yet to distinguish, as if he’d been truly excited for an event like this.

You raised a brow and squinted at him as Charlie detached herself from your form, briskly jogging to Alastor who’d offered her a sample of a brownie, calling the woman like a _ dog. _However, she seemed all too keen to answer his bidding.

“Would you like one?” He sung, batting those eyelashes you were so keen to rip out, his mood seemingly mithful and positively _ brimming _ with this happiness you didn’t know he contained. You found it pleasant, though his disembodied ghastly sounds reminded you of his true nature.

You gulped, shaking your head, fingers digging into the hem of your uniform in both anxiety and bashfulness. His sudden behavior was something you wanted to preserve, you’d much prefer working for someone who would make _ brownies _ for you. 

He narrowed his eyes and shrugged, watching as Charlie snatched the other brownie from his claws with a sly smile, seemingly proud that his cooking was enjoyable.

You shot him a look, and he simply turned around, proceeding his obnoxiously warm humming. Then, you noticed, _ he was wearing that goddamn apron again. _ He swatted a creeping hand - no, _ several _ \- away with his spatula, and you realized that it was none other than Angel’s little fingers that were being abused.

“Ugh, _ come on!”_ You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, but you weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting - he _ always _complained, so perhaps it was foolish to not expect.

While Alastor was preoccupied battling the intrusive spider’s hands away, another demon crept onto the scene; stealthily picking the freshly-baked muffins from their pans with diligent claws before the _ Radio Demon _ swiveled around, his annoyance paraded through his actions to summon that bizzare microphone from apparently _ oblivion, _and absolutely clobbered poor Husk in the face - the second time the feline had been struck today.

“_Motherfucker!” _ He dropped the pastries to the floor, rubbing at his face with something akin to a grimace upon his brows. You almost felt _ bad _ for him, your eyebrows knitted together in slight concern. Of all the Hotel’s residents, Husk was the _ only _ one that didn’t get on your nerves; mostly because he _ rarely _ interacted with anyone, much less _ you. _

He’d slunk to your side, grumbling under his breath when his gaze flickered to you.

“What are _ you _ staring at, kid?” He huffed, rubbing his cheek idly in the process.

“Your face,” he continued to rub it, a scowl on his mouth. “_This is the second time today-_“ 

“_Yeah, yeah_, no need to point it out.” He huffed out, his wings drooping against his back. You were entirely sure if he hadn’t had fur, there would be a _ huge _bruise indented into his face. You couldn’t help but let an amused breath harshly escape your nose, his eyes snapping to you with a glare. 

“_Sorry_.” You said quickly, offering a small smile of appeasement.

He didn’t respond, sliding his hand down his face, leaning against the kitchen wall. “The _ fuck _ is that music comin’ from?” It was odd seeing him _ outside _ of the bar; you yourself blissfully unaware of the fact that the Hotel was out of alcohol. He was taller than you, as were the majority of the other Hotel residents— the only one that you were taller than was Niffty, and even then, it wasn’t _ that _ much of an accomplishment. You didn’t mind, really. 

_ Unless you were being dragged around against your will. _

It was common for you to have a pain that originated from the back of your neck, simply from having to look _ up _ all the time. Being pulled from the expandless edges of your mind, you recalled his question; finally realizing the music that had begun to drift around the room. _ Polka. _

You turned to take a glance at where you _ suspected _it was coming from. The two of you glanced at the one individual who would have the audacity to do such a thing before instantly turning back to silently come to an understanding of the situation that was taking place. 

_ Truly, his nickname made more sense now than ever. _

“_He’s fuckin’ insufferable,” _ he grumbled under his breath, a slur of ‘creepy-ass motherfucker’ and other colorful array of words. _ Well, he wasn’t wrong. _ You were pretty sure he was talking out of pain though, instead of actual _ truth. _ You weren’t sure why you felt so _ bold _all of the sudden, but holding up a finger in a ‘wait’ motion. 

Impishly, perhaps even stupidly, you took a few strides to the counter and leaned over with your hand to attempt to grab a singular brownie from the intricately stacked pile. Powdered sugar was sprinkled over them, training your eyes on them closer and closer still, closing in on your _ prey ever so slowly. _

With a swift movement, you watched a glint of a knife slam down into the cutting board not even an _ inch _from your fingers. The blood drained from your face, staring with wide eyes and darting your hand instinctively away from the knife that was now etched into the wood. There was silence, your breath catching in the back of your throat, holding your own hand in your other one protectively. 

You stared at the knife for a long moment, the merry polka music suddenly cut as you felt static brush against your skin, it’s cheerfulness soon plagued by this menacing aura, choking you with an iron grip. Your gaze moved hesitantly to the individual who was still gripping the knife, albeit flexing his claws around the handle. _ His patience was limited with these absolute hooligans. _

It was only when he noticed that it was _ you _ that you saw his hand leave the knife, your eyes glancing between it and him quickly before settling on him once again. “Don’t you know it’s _ rude _ to take something that _ isn’t yours?” _He tilted his head, his quip met with a strained smile. 

“But you _ offered-_“

“-_And you declined._” 

In two long strides, he was in front of you, your form losing the boldness and turning into a _ pathetic cowering shell. _ He leaned down, eyes wide with amusement at the thought that _ this girl had been the one that quite literally cracked him in the face the prior night. _He grabbed your chin, eyes narrowing for a long moment, drinking in your expression. 

“_So?” _It was the only thing your frantic mind could think of in the spur of the moment, wincing as his claws dug into your chin. You felt his breath fan across your face in amusement. 

“_So?” _ He quipped back in a mocking tone, his grin extending across his face, from his mere lack of respect for your personal space, you felt your heart pick up in pace— _ whether it be in anger or embarrassment was something left to be found out. _ “You would like one now, _ wouldn’t you?” _

His claws dipped deeper into your soft skin, threatening to pierce it. You narrowed your eyes, frowning against his rough behavior. _ Why did he always have to mess with you face? _Your eyes trailed down to stare at what you could of his hand, feeling his claw lift and brush across the bottom your lip gently. 

“_You should really smile, darling.” _

Just as quickly, however, he let go of your chin and straightened himself, a sly expression on his face, humming as he rubbed his _ own _ chin as if actually considering it. “Ah, I _ suppose _I could spare another for you, since you did such a good job of getting word of our Hotel out there!” at last, he motioned towards the pastries. 

You didn’t move at first, angrily rubbing at your mouth and jaw as if it would get rid of his _ insistent, filthy touches, _the ghost of which still could be felt as you agitatedly huffed out your nostrils in utter annoyance. Finally swallowing your hesitance, you walked over to the brownies and plucked a singular one off of the top. 

_ Two could play at that game. _

“Alastor,” your attempted to grab his attention, before moving over to Husk and placing it into his paws. Looking back at him with an equally shit eating grin that rivaled his own, you narrowed your eyes.

_ You can’t win that easily, not with me. _

You turned your attention back to Husk, his gaze flickering between you, Alastor, and then back to the brownie in his paws before quickly stalking off, his tail both oddly and cutely swishing in kitten-like glee. That left Angel, who rose from underneath the kitchen table- the spider folding his arms across his body with a pout.

“Why the Hell don’t _ I _ get one?” He huffed; leaving you uncertain if he was talking to Alastor or yourself, but you took the liberty of responding.

“_Because nobody knows where your hands have been. _” It felt good to take a stab at him, to watch his apparent disgust as he flipped you a middle finger. 

“You should pull _ yours _ out of _ yer ass_, I wasn’t _ talkin’ _ to ya, I was _ talkin’ _ to _ fuckface _ over there.” The finger that was aimed at you, then moved to point at Alastor (_whom you were also moody with_) who only stood with his usual expression; an endless, eternal smile. Your face creased up in mock anger, biting your lip as you attempted to fight back the urge to laugh. 

_ You just couldn’t help yourself. _

“Well, _ maybe _ you should make it more clear when you’re talking to them. Didn’t you ever learn _ manners?” _ You retorted; apparently striking a nerve, the sentence tickling you funny when you remembered that you had tried to steal a brownie only moments ago. Angel took a single stride towards you. leaning down so that your faces were inches apart, one of his arms folded across his chest while the other remained against his hips. 

Alastor only leaned against the counter, watching the chaos unfold with expectant glee, coffee in a spare hand. 

“_Yeah, _ I _ did_, more than _ you_.” He unraveled an arm to point a single finger to your chest. “Did ya never learn when to keep ‘yer trap _ shut _ and respect ‘yer elders?” He sneered. 

Despite being utterly _ pissed _ at him, you couldn’t help but respond to his words with less heat than it would have contained if you hadn’t felt particularly _ mischievous. _

“_S__ure _ oldie, whatever you say. Maybe _ you _ shouldn’t start fights _ you can’t win._” Angel straightened up with a scoff, inducing a minuscule amount of uncertainty as he towered over you. Against all better judgement, you managed to stand your ground.

“_I__. Am. Not. Old._” He growled. “Don’t ya dare call me that ever again, toots, or I’ll cut out ‘yer tongue and _ stuff it down that throat of yours._” You released a guffaw, losing your ability to hold your amusement back, your hands flying out to your sides and into the air.

“You just called _ yourself _ old! Don’t blame me, blame yourself!” Letting your hands drop down to your sides again, your laughter fading from the room, the smallest of frowns peppering your lips. “I’m just looking out for _ myself_.”

Before Angel could even _ think _ of a response, there was a sharp whine of a microphone, the likes that made you _ both _ wince, your hands pressing against your ears instinctively; attention darting to the origin of the sound: Alastor, who was _ smiling _ over the rim of his cup. 

“_This coffee is certainly piping hot!_” He exclaimed; realisation settling in that the _ fuckface _ would _ of course _ finding your little spat entertaining. “Please, don’t mind me! _ Although, _if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve got a tea party to prepare.” He casually took another sip of his coffee before the cup vanished into obscurity. 

_ The motherfucker didn’t even clean it. _

“Wouldn’t want to miss your own tea party, now would you?” Angel narrowed his eyes at the Radio Demon who in turn _ appeared _ as if he were actually contemplating a response before shrugging it off. Looking back down to you after a moment, he narrowed his eyes; stalking away after flicking you on the nose and calling you a _ bitch._

Ushered from the kitchen, Alastor clapped his together, a notion that had you turn around to face him - a mistake on your behalf as your cheeks fell victim to his mocking affection once more.

“Now, go round everybody up, my darling little employee!” You swat away his hands almost instinctively by this point. “Be _ quick _ about it too, I’ve almost finished setting everything up. Can’t have a party without _ guests_…” he trailed off, glancing around the hotel then shrugging with a smile; humming merrily to himself as he strode back to the counter to continue his preparations.

You did just that, soon organising the few staff members and residents of the hotel, directing them towards the long table that was situated in the middle of the dining room. It was hard to miss it, really. You weren’t entirely _ sure _ why you were needed to do it in the first place. Nevertheless, you found yourself marvelling at the spectacle before you. 

The dining room had been transformed; the table was lined with a burgundy linen, adorned with elaborate detail in gold, each seat having its respective napkins and saucers with tea cups that matched the aesthetic. Tea pot after tea pot stood beside one another, the pattern interrupted by plates of baked goods you’d seen Alastor so _ lovingly _prepare; save for the centre of the table of course, in which stood a vase, delicately decorated with an assortment of red roses and tulips - disrupted by droplets of white from snowdrops. 

Although, at the centre of it all sat a bizarre looking flower you’d never seen before, akin to a venus flytrap maybe; beautiful but _ threatening _ all at the same time with the fang-like growths on its petals. The warming glow from the fireplace illuminated the room as the _ guests _ began to poke their way around in awe. 

_ All aside from Husk who’d already fallen into a chair. _

If he had his booze, he’d be doing the exact same thing he always was and probably wouldn’t have given the thought of, in his own words: _ ‘attending a fuckin’ tea party.’ _

“This is _ amAZING!_” Charlie cried, Vaggie jumping at the sudden shriek of joy.

“Yeah I _ guess… _ ” Vaggie soothed, trailing off as she narrowed her eyes at you with a raised brow: “Did you do this?” Charlie was already by the table, admiring the treats as Angel _ eagerly _helped himself; his attempt at sitting on Husk’s lap far from successful. 

“_Nonsense!_” Alastor’s voice boomed over everybody else’s, nearly his own static too. “She could _ never _ pull off a feat like this. That is why _ I _ took the liberty of hosting such a _ wonderful _ event!” He brought through a plate, ducking as he entered the room to avoid smacking his head on the doorframe, although his ears brushed against the top. You didn’t even _ look _at him, you and Vaggie sharing a rare moment of sudden understanding with an unamused expression. 

When he set down the platter, The Radio Demon brushed at his ears and hair with a proud grin. Charlie seemed to shrink away from the snacks, fixated on the plate that Alastor had placed down with a forced smile.

“That’s…” there was a moment’s hesitation, “_great! _ It’s so nice that you’d do something like this for us.” The rosy-cheeked woman exclaimed; Alastor straightened his back, eyebrows raised before falling into a fit of chuckles. Other guests, however, exchanged looks upon hearing that the _ Radio Demon _ prepared this audaciously divine gathering.

At his laughter, you immediately had a sneaking suspicion that _ this _is where he would get his revenge, quite literally calling you out. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

“Oh Charlie, _ no no no_!” He hummed, pinching her cheek playfully. “Don’t be silly, I did this for your fabulous employee over there!” You could feel her pain as she rubbed her now freed cheeks, at a loss for words as she turned to you. 

Opening your eyes, you shot her a _ look _ that held the promise of explaining later.

“Yeah, yeah - _ whatever,_” Angel cut in with a sigh, draped over the back of his seat, waving a brownie, “listen, just sit ‘yer asses down and get on with it.” Charlie did just that, Vaggie on the other hand took her time - attention not once leaving Alastor as he watched her pass. His head falling to the side as she stopped, brows furrowed. 

“What happened to your thing?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What thing?” Alastor chirped inquisitively - Vaggie drawing a circle around her eye with a harsh look. “My eye?” He was playing dumb, your teeth grit as you watched them play charades with one another; Alastor finally saying what he knew all along.

“My _ monocle_! Why, Vaggie why didn’t you just say so, my dear!” He exclaimed, grin widening as he rolled his eyes, gaze falling upon you in the process. “It’s… _ out of commission._”

So were you, taking to your seat and deeply sinking into it without input, trying to seclude yourself from the company of the table, but Alastor’s gaze penetrated that false security.

The tea party was a blast - literally; it’d started off peaceful, Alastor insisting on serving everybody tea. You couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable having him hang over your shoulder with a pot of boiling, flavored water. If you were alone with him, you wouldn’t doubt he would have just spilled the contents onto you instead of into the actual cup. Small talk was made, jokes were shared (_Alastor’s painfully bad_), treats were eaten after neither Angel nor Husk had died from the suspected poisoning. 

Alastor had excused himself politely, his form elegantly escaping from the festivities to disappear back into the kitchen - to which a series of banging could be heard, an audible locking sound following suit, the demon emerging from the doors; he nearly hit his head on the doorframe this time, all too excited for the continuation of this… quaint gathering. 

_ Quaint. Not chaotic. _ Alastor seemed to genuinely enjoy the company of the hotel’s residence, however, craved something far more entertaining. _ He wanted to ruffle a few feathers. _

Husk almost had a _ conniption _ at the sight of the liquor, Alastor carrying two large, fancy bottles that beckoned him forward - he growled.

“_What the fuck is this?”_ Alastor blinked slowly a few times, innocence laced within his expression as he gently set the alcohol down; the feline harshly eyed him, then the booze.

Then Alastor.

Then the booze again.

He lunged over the table, Angel immediately bursting into a fit of cackles at the feline’s sheer desperation, his desire for the tastefully fine liquor - _ the good stuff. _ Husk knocked a few intricacies off the table, but he didn’t seem to care; too focused on either strangling Alastor for keeping these _ wonderful _additions under wraps, or getting his filthy little paws on those stunning bottles. 

While Angel doubled over in laughter, you seized Husk despite the sheer size differences between the two of you, attempting to hold him back from potentially ruining the decorations and toppling the alcohol. You couldn’t care less if he was going for that cheesy red-haired trickster - in fact, _ you’d welcome that, _ but if he _ wasn’t _and was making a mess simply over the fact of the alcohol being in his line of sight— 

“Husk, _ stop!” _Charlie cried out over the sudden chaos.

His wings had fanned out across the length of the surface, his face in a grimace as he plucked the bottle from the tray, his claws ripping at the fabric on the table. A talon immediately corkscrewed the opening, popping it off and letting the sweet nectar of the alcohol fall down his throat. He got off of the table then, totally and blissfully in his own alcoholic mind as he sauntered off without excusing himself. Angel, who’d been in hysterics the whole time, nearly fell back off his seat, clambering after the feline in a tangle of limbs.

_ Needless to say, the tea party ended soon after. _

The aftermath; while it had all gone to _ shit_, had you inspecting what you thought was a tiny fragment of glass. You were too distracted to tell, picking at it with your nail before flicking it into the dustpan. _ It didn’t belong on the floor anyway. _ To think you’d end up cleaning at your own party - then again, the party probably wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for the previous night. 

_ If you hadn’t punched him. _

The dustpan vanished from beside you, Niffty whisking it away to promptly empty it once more. Without the correct tools, you sat silently, pondering your actions before you decided to do something _ productive _ and wash the dishes that _ hadn’t _ been broken.

Of course, going into the kitchen meant _ seeing him; _ Alastor resting against the draining board with his cup full of coffee. Despite being the previous host of the most unsuccessful _ tea _ party known to demon kind, he refused to drink the stuff; settling for coffee instead. Tea was too _ sweet. _

Without paying him much attention, you made your way to the sink, preparing it aptly as Alastor continued to drink his coffee.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” The words fell from you lips before you had the chance to think of how to assess the situation properly. There was simply _ no way _ he hadn’t _ intended _ for the peaceful gathering to take a completely bonkers, one hundred and eighty degree turn from sane to insane. _ The bastard had known what he had done. _

“I suppose I _ did _ put a bit more sugar into the brownie mix than there needed to be.” You rolled your eyes at his response, because _ that was not what you meant _ The hearty sigh was nothing if not _ fake _ as he smiled sweetly into the brim of his cup. “You know, you should never give children too much sugar, it makes them go a bit _ crazy_!” 

You felt your eye twitch, a sigh, _ nearly silent except to you_, falling from your mouth. His response alone was more than enough of an answer; with how he twirled your words on his lips. Sometimes you felt like you were interacting with an extremely tall, toothy, _ child _than a feared presence. Picking up the last plate, you ran it under the warm water, cleaning the grime off of it without a second thought. You responded to his feigned innocence with silence. 

“_Sorry,” _a murmur, but just loud enough for him to hear. Your words were hesitant as if it were a laughable feat to ever _ apologize _to the all powerful, all feared Radio Demon. 

_ That _ pulled him out of whatever mirthful reverie had plagued his mind, but he didn’t look over to you, even as you reached behind him to pick up the drying towel. 

“Whatever for, my dear?” His voice echoed into the cup he help to his lips.

You dried the plate, mewling over your thoughts before looking up to him with an expression akin to ‘_ really?’ _ You knew _ exactly _what he was doing; playing coy and stupid just so you would have to say the exact words. 

“_For punching you in the face.” _

That still didn’t let him off the hook though for sneaking into your room to begin with. Now _ that _ was off limits. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay angry with him, as in his own stupidly charming, vile, _ disgusting _ way, he had taken the initiative just to return a _ candle _to you. At least, that’s what you thought, and you remained blissfully unaware of the true intentions that were laced behind each silhouette of his actions.

“...and thanks for the pleasant morning, _ before _ everything_.” _ You motioned towards the trash can that was filled with shards of broken plates, plastics, and other assortments of silverware. At long last, he put the cup down next to him, turning to you. His grin faltered into a _ smile, _his eyelashes batting down at you. You nearly rolled your eyes. 

And then, raising his hand and swirling his finger, his _ monocle _was situated on his face again in one piece.

_ You suddenly remembered why you hated him. _

You watched as his smile turned into a light-hearted grin (_t__hough, his sharp smile would never be light-hearted in your opinion_) as you narrowed your eyes on the piece of glass. You flexed your fingers against your palms, sincerely considering doing some actual damage that he wouldn’t be able to perform some voodoo magic on. You closed your eyes, taking a deep intake of air and composing yourself. _ It just wasn’t worth the effort. _

“I hate you, just so you know.” You huff out dramatically, reopening your eyes. The words held no heat behind them though, and for that, you couldn’t help but release a breath of amusement at his _ insufferable, _quirky antics. 

“Oh _ darling, you break my heart!” _ He put a hand to his head as if he were swooning. If there was someone who had to be more dramatic than you had just been, it was you. _ He always tried to one-up you. _

Your lip twitched, suddenly becoming _ bold _ in your words as you stood on your tippy toes, putting your hands behind your back, and batting your eyelashes at _ him. _

“_You don’t have a heart to break.” _Your words were sickeningly sweet, before dropping the poorly constructed act and, without a further word, you walked right out of the kitchen to find Niffty. _ You had work to do, after all. _


	15. Drunken Disasters

Generally, you were not someone who complained very often-- verbally at least. However, when you were forced to use the hand in back-breaking work of cleaning up the absolute disaster of a party, you may have released a wince and a hiss a few times. Somehow, while being entirely focused on doing her part in cleaning, Niffty had picked up on the sounds you were making and at last discovered the malformation of black and blue bruises surrounding your knuckles. Needless to say, you found yourself forced into the kitchen to search for a first aid kit. It was hard to say no to a face like that, even if it wasn’t necessarily your definition of ‘_cute_’ like a dog or some other kind of pet would be. 

_Her one eye did make you uncomfortable at times, though. _

Finding the first aid kit hadn’t been too difficult, the practice of actually bandaging your hand proving to be the actually challenging thing. Without the ability to flex your knuckles without a searing pain to race up your hand, you had to hold the first line of bandaging close to your chest in order to start the process. Your company was not exactly sought after, instead merely accepted as the rustling of cabinets caught your attention; you looked up from your current assignment. You weren’t sure if you were zoned out in thoughts to not have noticed Husk at first, or if he had just entered without grabbing your awareness. 

It was a rather large kitchen, you supposed; it wouldn’t be that hard for him to skirt out of your peripheral vision if he had chosen to do just that. 

There was an empty alcohol bottle next to him causing you to piece together the rapidly approaching puzzle in your mind swiftly and without fault. Your thoughts fell back to the moment in the gathering just before it had gone to hell, the sound of rustling and cabinets closing still fresh in your mind before Alastor had returned with two of the finest of alcohol bottles-- none of that cheap booze that you so often saw Husk drown himself in. Despite the bottle being something in itself that would take multiple visits for it to be finished, he had downed it in record time, drinking it as if it were water. 

Your regard to your knuckles had slowed as you watched him search the cabinets at least twice, each time his eyes lighting up with hopefulness that somehow a new bottle would be in it despite only checking moments ago, only for his attempts to come up fruitless. His tail would swish behind him with frustration, his expression falling into a grim one before he lifted a paw and swiped the bottle off of the counter. It met the tiling of the kitchen, the bottle that was purely made of glass shattering when it connected with it. You jumped at the sudden sound, your eyes flickering to the ground before narrowing. 

“I’m not cleaning that up.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ _ask_ you to.” 

Right on time, however, Niffty had entered the kitchen with a twirl, her hands holding a dustpan and brush with contents inside that you must’ve missed before. Her singular eye immediately focused on the mess, a large gasp exiting her as she dropped the dust pan, bringing her hands to her face in horror. 

“Oh my _gosh_!” You grimaced at her shrill exclaim.

She didn’t even question it, going straight to work, cleaning up the broken glass with a precision and rapidness that made you briefly worry for her safety. You decided to go against the desire to say something, letting silence take up your response. Husk seemed satisfied that he didn’t have to do the cleaning himself, shrugging it off and continuing to look through the pantry a third time. In the time that it took the little show of aggression to fizzle out of the room completely, you had finished bandaging your hand albeit a bit absently. For one reason or another, your thoughts drifted to the sheer amount of food that had been used in the entire fiasco of that earlier day.

Stepping over the broken bottle and side-stepping Niffty, you pulled open the refrigerator with your non-bruised hand. You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. One side of you was sincerely hoping that he had just creating the concoctions of his work out of his voodoo powers, or something. The other part of you was entirely certain he would have used everything in the kitchen to make you go out against and get groceries because apparently that was your thing now. Going out and doing things. 

_Eggs, milk, and a singular apple. Nice. _

Your mood continued to dampen when you heard the door swing open, your inquisitiveness causing you to turn your head to peer over your shoulder to see whoever it could be. For once in his damned life, you had actually noticed Alastor take initiative and help out. It was probably only so he could ease over the suspicions that had been placed on him for taking it a bit too far. Because, let’s face it, Alastor didn’t help just because. Closing the door, you were about to walk right past him and continue your work now that your hand was wrapped enough to ease the discomfort that your sudden attention to it had caused. 

You weren’t even able to take a single step before his voice littered the room.

“What’s the matter with you two? _Smile_! There’s much to be happy about on this wonderful day!” 

You rolled your eyes, Husk only growling in annoyance. His growling drifted off into furious mutterings, finally coming to terms with his fate of not easing the itch his alcoholism caused. Alastor’s grin only increased, his hands once behind his back now coming forward to place a single claw to his lips in an epiphany. “_Ah_! We’re out of alcohol, aren’t we?” In a blur of a moment, the second bottle that had remained on the counter had been picked up and thrown in the very direction of the Radio Demon himself.

_He caught it._

His reflexes were frighteningly accurate, but he seemed pleased with the frustration he was bleeding out of Husk. You however, were only mildly annoyed, clearing your throat after a moment of shaking off the unsettling feeling his precision had caused. 

“We’re almost out of food.”

Alastor’s attention moved to you for a moment, eyeing the refrigerator with a hum. His eyes narrowed then, snapping back over to Husk. He removed his claw from his chin, returning both of his hands behind his back as you leaned against the counter idly. Your eyes pinched when his did, because when Alastor was up to something mischievous, it was often seen on his face before he even spoke. 

“I suppose that problem can be resolved quite easily, _can’t_ it?”

You caught on rather quickly, thinking back on how he hinted on it and with _how your job took a detour whenever something was needed in the Hotel._ You could quite literally see a lightbulb go off on top of Husk’s head. “Go _shopping_?” His face was pulled up into a grimace, an annoyed tone fitting the expression almost perfectly. He waved a paw in front of his chest, already set on walking out of the kitchen right then and there. “Well, I’m not _fuckin_’ goin!” he stated with a huff, crossing his arms together. 

_Well, you certainly weren’t going to go with Angel_.

“_I could go_.” Alastor offered, and you whipped your head to him, only to find that he was looking at you. You were about to open your mouth with a guffaw and tell him a flat out ‘_no_’, because you would much rather die a second time than go out anywhere alone with _Alastor_. But thankfully for you, that didn’t seem to be what would happen, as Alastor wasn’t quite finished with his statement. 

“Perhaps… stop by one of those _quaint_ little places everyone adores so very much,” his eyes moved back to Husk, an elfish smile now adorning what was once simply a mischievous grin. Husk’s ears were now perked, standing attentive at what he was referring to. “Have a drink, possibly?” Alastor looked back over to you with an odd look, only to be met with a confused expression. If you could have had “_???”_ above your head in flashing lights, you would have.

_What the fuck?_

_“FINE!”_ Husk was shaking now, giving into the manipulation with an exasperated yell, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll fuckin’ go,” he turned his attention to you, pointing in your direction with a frown. “But _I’m_ pickin’ out the damn alcohol.” You deflated, ultimately relieved at Husk’s sudden eagerness to accompany you, just so you wouldn’t have to go with Bastard™ that was now staring at the two of you with a pleased smile. You shrug your shoulders, your hand going to your pocket and pulling out a gold card, a smile on your lips as if you were luring him further into the point of no return.

You saw him physically relax, most likely because he wouldn’t actually have to _pay_ for anything, or maybe it was because he knew you weren’t too much of a _troublemaker_. 

With a motion of your head (because you actually wanted to get this done and over with as soon as possible-- the day had been so exhausting already), you passed Alastor without a single word or acknowledgement of his existence, heading to the main entrance with Husk in tow. With a sigh, you were nearly able to pull it open when a throat cleared a bit behind the two of you. _What now? _

The two of you turned around, coming face to face with the insistent gremlin who was now holding up mittens. A moment passed, and then two, but when Alastor didn’t pull them away, Husk pointed at it with a gruff voice: “_the fuck is that?_” He didn’t seem amused, and, truth be told, you weren’t either. 

_You were just tired. _

Alastor leaned in, grabbing Husk’s arm and pulling him towards him in a similar way he had done to you earlier. His arm was around his neck, his hands holding the mittens out in front of them, cheeks squished together. “Husker, my _dear_ friend! It’s so chilly out.” His grin was stretching ear to ear, Husk visibly fuming. 

“I’ll wear them.”

They both looked at you at the exact same moment, seemingly both surprised by you cutting in. Alastor let go of Husk immediately, chuckling and brushing down his attire from the brief roughhousing. He handed you the mittens, eyes narrowing with amusement. _He knew you didn’t want another argument._ Taking them briskly, you put them on in front of him. You were surprised there weren’t any scorpions hiding in it. It was _actually_ sort of warm and fuzzy, not that you would ever admit it. 

At long last, the two of you escaped the clutches of the Radio Demon. You weren’t sure where the dramatic change in temperature came from, but it was absolutely freezing. For the briefest of moments, you found yourself actually to be relieved that you had taken the mittens. Husk was _probably_ fine, considering he was covered from head to toe with a thick coating of fur. 

_You were wrong. _

It wasn’t even a mile away from the Hotel that you noticed he was eyeing the gloves. Instead of saying anything, your mind fills in the gap of silence with curious piques of interest. It was ironic that it was so cold, considering you were in Hell. “Why is it so cold?” you break the tranquility with your question. Husk looks at you as if you were stupid. 

“There’s still _seasons_. Did you think it was goin’ to be a fuckin’ hellfire?” You don’t respond, watching how your breath becomes visible against the cold air. You shrug your shoulders. With a sigh, as if it was absolutely the worst thing in the world to explain it to you. “It’s more extreme than on Earth,” he elucidated, “it’s _Hell_, so it ain’t goin’ to be pretty, kid. That’s for the petty bitches up there.” He pointed to the sky, the darkness of the evening easily silhouetting the bright cloud with a halo upon it. 

You suddenly found the stars that were simply absent here. 

All that there was here was a red hue, some clouds, and the Heaven’s gates that were positioned directly in front of you, just out of reach. If that wasn’t cruel, you weren’t sure what was. He continued on to explain how the elements were extreme. It was either freezing or blistering in the months that they were most noticeable; there was no inbetween. You rubbed your arms as the two of you feel into silence again. Truthfully, you hoped that Husk knew where he was going, because you absolutely did not. 

It was only when you looked to your surroundings and entered a more populated part of the city did you catch Husk looking over at your mittens for a second time. The later it got in the day, the colder it became, the more he found the idea welcoming. “Do you want them?” You look ahead, only sparing him a glance once he responded.

“Nah, kid, keep ‘em.” he gruffly said, despite you being in the process of removing them. Without a word uttered, you pushed them in his direction. He stared at it for a moment, then at you, and then took them. You stuck your hands into your pockets with a pleased smile. It didn’t take long for a conversation to bud between the two of you; albeit, one-sided at first. With time, he began to relax and respond, warmed by the gloves and willingness for conversation. 

“_So, last night-_” he began and you winced, flinching as he continued. “-someone fuckin’ sounded like they were getting murdered.”

You grimaced at his expression, he looked like he needed some alcohol, “That was me.” Husk’s head whipped around to look at you, brow furrowing in question, “There was a… _thing_.” 

“A _thing_?” he almost laughed, but his face remained grim and moody, a little concerned obout a monster supposedly terrorizing people, but also apparently uncaring as he merely grumbled, muffling his thoughts into his thick fur, “_that doesn’t fuckin’ sound good._” You gave him a look, nodding.

“I mean-- it wasn’t a _real_ monster, _I don’t think…_ some sort of hallucination? But it seemed so _real_.” The rocky path was frozen over, layers of frost glassed over the brickwork, making its home in any indentations or imperfections, crunching under your steps; you looked down, shutting your eyes in memory of that horrid night: “It wasn’t fun,” you added lightly, “_especially_ with Alastor there, but he was the least of my problems with that thing I thought was running amok.”

Husk remained silent, though his eyes could occasionally drift to you, as if he was still praying attention; you sighed, watching the feline slowly blink in your direction, he seemed unsurprised about Alastor’s presence.

“I was _tempted_ to burn him alive, to be honest, I didn’t have my wits about me, especially in that predicament - I was waving that dumbass flamethrower everywhere, now I got scorch marks all over my room.” You were ranting now, sulking at this reminder. Husk burst into a small chuckle - causing you to question the authenticity of your surroundings, “... You alright?”

He nodded, shaking his head as his sudden laughter died down, “A damn flamethrower? You had a fuckin’ _flamethrower_!?” he howled with amusement laced with this kitten-like excitement. His tail swished behind him.

“_Well…_” you begun again, as if you were telling your grandchild a story, “I made it.” He guffawed, “with some can filled with something, _I don’t know_, and a lighter that was in my room - I was _desperate_ at the time, locked in the bathroom as it tried to break down the damn door!”

“_That’s fuckin’ badass._”

You questioned whether or not he was talking about the monster or you, but continued on, “After I managed to hurt it, it retreated and I kicked down the door only to find asshat innocently returning a candle. Which is bullshit.” You threw your arms in the air, “I mean, who _returns a candle!?_” 

Husk nodded sagely, for once, “_Anyway_, I ended up punching him in the face and breaking his precious little monocle,” you shrugged as if it were no big deal. To be quite honest, seeing his reaction made a sense of pride rush through you, “because he was being… _what’s that word you said?_” 

He looked at you then, “ --_Asshat_? Piece of shit? Motherfucker? Insufferable-”

“_Insufferable_, thank you.” You pointed at him with a snap of your fingers, “Even when I’m losing my _mind and hallucinating he insists on irritating me,_ y’know? Why can’t he just fuck off?”

That laughed started up again, it was gruff at first, but true joy from hearing of your ventures with the Radio Demon seemed entwined within his chuckles -- he couldn’t believe you punched him, but was thoroughly satisfied with your action against his annoying smile.

“You ain’t so bad, kid.” He turned to you, another slow blink, and a small… _smile_?

_He was smiling?_

_He was smiling. _

You weren’t sure when you arrived at the supermarket, but before you could comment on him actually smiling at you, you remembered Allie’s advice referring to your kindness: ‘_some worship that, others are threatened; many will see it as a weakness’_. Your smile turned into a strained one, breathing out a sigh as you walked along the sidewalk of the supermarket, kicking a pebble. There were demons around, of course, of all shapes and sizes. Some attempting to smuggle, some passing drugs to each other, some offering services. The supermarket itself was run down, but you weren’t there to nit-pick.

_Get in and get out._

Nevertheless, it all went pretty seamless. You got what you needed at a surprisingly swift speed, possibly because Husk was quite literally bouncing with excitement over going to the alcohol aisle. That took a bit longer, him being as close to Heaven itself there. You let him have his fun, if only for a short while before hurrying him up. The darker it got outside, the more your anxiety began to creep up your spine. Nothing good ever happened after dark. 

You ended up carrying the groceries. The alcohol was an important commodity too, in Husk’s eyes. 

He held as many bottles as he could carry. The food you’d managed to collect would barely last everybody a few days with the lack of spare hands. That being said, you didn’t want to tell Husk ‘_no_’. He seemed happy.

Approaching the counter you were faced with a weasley looking demon, it’s beady eyes darting between the pair of you. Without a word, he scanned all the items and bagged everything up - Husk proud of his collection as you head back in the direction of the hotel; chest puffed out. He’d been so content with his drink until something caught his attention. You hadn’t even realised he’d fallen behind. When you stopped to see what had caught his attention; you saw him staring, wide-eyed - suddenly grateful you’d turned as he bolt into the bar. 

You would have never known where he’d gone, otherwise.

You’d thought he’d forgotten about you too, until his head popped around the door frame.

“What’re you waitin’ for?” He’d spoken so fast you barely caught it, lost for words as he vanished like some cat on crack. It seemed like you were going in there then. Edging to the hole in the wall (that must have held a door at some point), you peered inside. There was no bouncer, nobody to stop you. 

Husk had already made himself comfortable at the bar. Those red feather-like eyebrows stuck out above his head, a literal beacon to say ‘_I’m here_’. Gingerly, you walked towards the open seat next to him, feeling out of your element. He noticed your presence, acknowledging it with a nod.

_He already had a drink_.

“Where’s the bag?” Was all you could ask, Husk pointing to the aforementioned thing on the floor, ‘safe’ for now. 

“Sit _down_ would you?” He patted the seat you’d refused to sit on until now. Whatever he’d asked the bartender for wasn’t like anything you’d heard of in life before. The deep black substance shone purple around the edges where the glass and the liquid made contact. 

“Trying to kill your new friend here, Husk?” The bartender inquired, amusement tugging at his lips as Husk shrugged. “Are you _sure_ she can handle it?” He was a demon that looked akin to a dinosaur. His skin was scaled, his color a mixture between green and blue. Man, you had lucked out.

“I’m _sure_ I can.” You didn’t sound as confident as you’d hoped you would, the bartender picking up on this as Husk tipped the foul looking liquid down his throat in one. 

_It wasn’t as easy as it looked._

The scent alone should have acted as a warning, the pungent acidic smell making you recoil before you’d even put it to your lips, of course, the action happened so fast - there was no stopping it from hitting your tongue. For a split second, everything was fine, until your tongue burnt like it’d been hit with a white hot poker; the taste like death itself as the fire coursed down your throat. 

Like that, you placed down the glass. 

“_Well?”_ The bartender hummed, leaning against the counter top with a smug smirk. You took a shallow breath, staring at the glass as you focused on the heat burning in your chest. It hadn’t gone down though, it’d gone up - an overwhelming queasiness washing over you as you lift your head. 

You’d failed to recognise you’d even done that, the lightheadedness catching you off guard as you turned to Husk, amazed at how everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. 

“Ha!” You covered your mouth as Husk burst into laughter, the bartender taking your glass from you, his shoulders shaking as he washed it out and placed it back on the shelf behind him. As for Husk, he poured him another drink.

“I remember _my_ first fuckin’ time trying this.” He chuckled, trailing off, gazing fondly at the glass in his claws as he swirled it around idly. 

“Can only drink the stuff like this now cuz I’m used to it.” Another glass of that vile liquid gone, sucking in your lips as you watched him drink - stifling the laughter that bubbled up your throat. As if life couldn’t get better for the feline demon, the bartender slammed down a crate of something in front of him, causing you to jump.

“For that bet.” He hummed - Husk grinning like a madman. 

_You felt so good._

“Bet?” You blurt out, perhaps a bit louder than you would have normally, Husk nodding as he pulled the crate towards him. You’d immediately lost interest however, gazing around the establishment as it swam in your vision; attention drifting here and there with a distant, dumb smile on your face the entire time. It seemed like a nice place - all the demons were smiling and happy and it just seemed so _wonderful_.

You heard something distantly, it sounded like you were underwater.

“-_hey_!” Husk barked again, clicking his claws together. You heard him with a sudden clarity, head whipping around to him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, feeling your entire body almost fall into the counter with you. 

“Husk, am I in Heaven?” When he’d said no, you were in Hell, you’d almost cried with laughter. It was safe to say, it was the most fun you’d had since you fell into Hell - definitely Hell, you couldn’t fall up, that was just silly. Like Husk - he was a cat… _thing, a silly looking cat thing! _

And Charlie had pepperoni cheeks, Alastor was a freaking sleep paralysis demon! Angel - oh gosh, Angel was an _asshole_ and where the Hell did _Vaggie_ go? 

Niffty too, she only had one eye that swirled around and around when she was excited. _So funny!_ Husk had given up asking you what was so funny after the stream of consciousness he’d received least time. 

The harsh lights of the city swirled around you like pixies, fascinating and intriguing you; but everything was so damn funny, your feet dancing beneath you and tripping you up. _Oh, you were moving now. _

_You were going places._

Back to the Hotel apparently, a soft ‘_nooo_’ escaping you as Husk took the groceries you’d ended up carrying the whole way back from the bar.

“But I dun _wanna_ go back - Ass -” You had to think about that one, falling into a fit of giggles before you finished laughing, “Alsssster will… uhh,” your brain lagged, you hiccuped, suddenly leaning against Husk. “--make... worhhk,” _yeah that made sense,_ “-_and I dun wanngo back!_” You whined like a child, flailing your arms this way and that like a complete idiot as Husk was _surprisingly_ patient with your mannerisms.

But the thought of your bed lured you ever onwards, the thought of those _soft, silky sheets_. It made you want to curl up then and there and sleep. You hiccuped again, giggling at the sound.

Ohh, or the _sofa_; you’d stumbled into the lobby, nearly tripping over your own feet as you spied that comfy-looking sofa, ready for your _attention_ and basically just throwing yourself at it. You could hear Husk in the distance, Angel Dust too - giggling to yourself at the sound of Husk swearing and Angel being a _bitch_. 

Your eyelids felt so _heavy_ too, letting them close on their own as you laid on that _glorious_ sofa. Drifting off to the netherworld that was sleep - of course, _as if you’d ever get a moment of peace. _

There was mumbling, you could hear, such an annoying sound pinching at your skin uncomfortably as it grew louder, closer. The fuzzy ball, the kind one that had accompanied you; his voice was prominent and louder than the rest, than that _other one_. You made a face.

Trying to tune them out, you huffed, annoyed with their insistent babbling and that damn _noise_ \- you opened your eyes, which was not an easy task for your heavily intoxicated self, nearly screaming at the red devil inches from your face, seemingly inspecting you - his neck and body craned at an inhuman degree. 

Straightening himself out with a few bone-crunching sounds that utterly _sickened_ you, he turned sharply to the massive teddy bear-cat-thing, “My, _someone’s_ had a lot to drink! --” you could see the disappointment and amusement dance on his features almost teasingly, “I suppose I have Husk to thank for that; _what did you do to our employee?_” The red man called from over his shoulder, his tone a little wary but demanding.

“You’re-“ you forgot what you were going to say the moment you began before it suddenly came rushing back to you. “_so_ loud.” You brought a finger to your lips and shushed him. “‘Sss… one drink.” _Barely_. “_One_ drink...” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, before you trailed off, letting your hand fall to your side. With a groan, you move your arm to block the light from the chandelier that looked _so pretty._ But it hurt your eyes, so.

At the bar, Husk couldn’t get a break - his head in his hands, shaking as if he were about to rip Angel - who so kindly was trying to flirt with him - apart. He didn’t respond, sending a harsh eye over to Alastor, flashing him a middle finger that held so much sheer _emotion_ behind it.

“Go ‘way, Al - _ass_ \- stor.” You nearly lost your mind at your little play on words, giggling to yourself like some schoolgirl who just saw their crush, before your face snapped into a frown, shooing him away with an uncoordinated hand.

“Oh dear.” Was all he said, adjusting his monocle as if it were messing with his vision.

He narrowed his eyes, a chuckle in his throat as he came to a sort of mental conclusion, his wry smile twisting into a darker one, a _malicious_ one. _It was a subtle promise of bad things to come._

“What’s your name?” he asks oh-so lightly, so _sweetly_ \-- and when you responded with only an incomprehensible slur, his grin became ear-splitting. He placed a clawed hand to his head as if he were so worried about the Hotel’s precious employees, “_Poor, poor employee!_”

“-- How Husker has ruined you!” Angel averted his attention from Husk, who had fallen asleep on the counter, snoring quite loudly, drool already spilling down. His face crinkled up at the rather pathetic sight of your drunken form, minute concern flashing through his mind as he watched Alastor take rough hold of your chin, squishing your cheeks in both playful and dangerous interrogation, “_Now…_” Angel was about to get up, stalk over there and _perhaps_ intervene. 

_He understood bad intentions just from that tone of voice alone_. 

You tried to swat his claws away, but they just dug deeper into your flesh as he angled your face up, “Do you like _piers_?” he started casually, unsure of exactly how he should word this, his other hand tapping on his mouth in thought. 

You nodded lazily, completely at his mercy, “Aye, water is nice sometimes.”

“_Very good_,” he nodded at you as if you were a dumbshit - a proud motherly tone adorned his voice, “You were at one earlier, you know that?” He started slowly, too focused on your drooping eyelids and sleepy form to notice a certain spider get up to intervene.

A hand landed on Alastor’s shoulder, “Hey, uhhh… I think she’s had enough ta drink today, ya know? No need ta bother the dunks, Smiles.” he almost jumped when the demon’s head practically swiveled around with a sickening crack, to face him; his smile obviously forced and upset.

“_**Don’t** touch me._” 


	16. Swat The Pest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those who haven't yet joined [make sure to join out Discord by clicking here!](https://discord.gg/XgXkrD4)
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> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

Angel yanked his hand away protectively, ensuring that he wouldn’t get it bitten off by a mouth full of teeth that was inhumanely connected to the individual standing behind the couch. “Alright, _ alright, I get it.” _ Don’t touch the Radio Demon. His eyes narrowed slightly before ultimately backing down because there was no way in the Nine Circles of Hell he was dealing with _ that. _ You couldn’t _ pay _ him to do it. Alastor’s gaze narrowed back at him before sickeningly cracking his body back into the original positioning, flattening down his outfit, clearing his throat as if everything that just happened was simply part of his daily routine. 

“Why is my hearing - why is everything _ fuzzy_?” You waved your arms in the air aimlessly, trying to feel the static in the air that was suddenly drifting away as Alastor’s own temper fizzled out of existence. 

“Static.” Angel piped up from the other side of the couch, crossing all four of his arms with a huff. 

“_Static.” _You agreed loudly, wincing at your own volume. You had to use your _ inside voice_.

Despite everything that led to this moment, your eyes remained closed, blissfully unaware that the red devil was leaning his hand down next to your ear, snapping his fingers and causing you to jolt your eyes open at the sudden sound. 

As you’d gulped down air it’d become trapped in your throat, panic seizing your chest as you stared _ petrified _ at the demon - _ you couldn’t breathe_, adrenaline flooding your veins as every inch of your conscious body screamed ‘ _ run _ ’ and yet you remained so utterly paralyzed. It was like you could see him through the water, _ them_, your _friend;_ holding you just beneath the surface and watching on with that _ leer. _

Then, you did it; you could breathe, launching yourself into the air as you swallowed down that precious oxygen. A hand must have hit Alastor as you felt something press against your palm, legs scooting you back to the other side of the couch, closer to Angel.

_ Your friend had taken your life. _

“Woah-!” Angel cried, arms extended your way but not going near you. “Sheesh, Alastor _ what in tha’ HELL _did ya do to her?” Alastor maintained his smile, lips pursed as he stared on like a deer in the headlights. His head was tilted, eyes pinching together in amusement once the initial surprise faded.

“That’s a _ very _ good question!” He chimed. It was as if someone had put you into overdrive; you’d felt yourself drown, _ you’d felt it_. There was no relief though, just a dull ache that kept its vice like grip around your chest; panic sending every muscle into a spasm as you frantically tried to control your fear. 

It was like you’d woken up to a _ demon _ above your bed - _ a feeling you knew all too well. _ You sunk your nails into the couch, every hair on its end. You’d been so weary, now sober as you felt tears well in your eyes; chest heaving. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the whole ordeal, his inquisitive nature getting the better of him, Angel edging backwards and forwards from the sofa uncomfortably, as if unsure what to do. _ It wasn’t like he cared, okay? _

“Ya alright there, toots?” He chuckled, hints of anxiety lingering in his tone. She was hyperventilating, the damn girl looked like she was overdosing on something. _ He knew too well what that looked like. _ He hesitated putting a hand on her shoulder considering that the smug radio talk-show shitlord host-ass bitch basically broke his neck to tell him to get his hands off. “_Hey_.” Angel was more stern this time, regretting his actions as she leapt out of her skin at his touch.

“C’mon,” Alastor watched the whole scene unfold, finding yourself being assisted onto shaky legs that threatened to give way at any second. Angel’s occasional comment passing over deaf ears as you fought to concentrate on basic procedures. 

“_Do take care! _ ” Alastor called out behind the pair of you, the haze hiss of static that lay over his voice made you convulse, every inch of your body was repulsed by the thought of him, your friend and the water... _ you couldn’t cope with this anymore_. 

Angel had whisked you away to the safety of your room - a wreck as you sat on your bed; feet tucked beneath you almost immediately to prevent them from dangling over the edge. In case anything grabbed them. 

“D’ya need anythin’?” In a moment of fear and confusion you let the words spill from your mouth.

“_Just leave me alone! _” You’d barked, Angel narrowing his gaze as he folded his arms.

“I was just trynna,” he hesitated, face scrunching up as if there was a foul taste in his mouth, “yeesh, kid, I was just trynna make sure yer okay. _ Talk about moody. _” As sudden as you’d snapped at him, you’d reached out, snatching the spider’s sleeve as he threatened to leave. He tugged it away from you, recoiling at your touch with a look of disgust, one that softened as you spoke.

“I’m sorry, I don’t_ know _ Angel, I’m just scared. I-I _ died _ my friend they, _ they- _” each word came with a forced breath - the demon groaning as his fickle gaze travelled from the door to your sob wracked frame.

Then, with a hefty sigh, he let his head fall to the side.

“_Hey now_~” he began, voice unnaturally soft if not a little sultry, “it’s all in the past hon, nothin’ to get worked up about.” Fighting back the tears was _ impossible _ for you. You let them fall, curling up into a ball as Angel found himself standing idly in the center of the room. 

“Ya know, ya should get some rest, toots, everythin’ll be alright when ya wake up…” he trailed off, upper limbs clasped together at his chest, another hand awkwardly patting you on the head like some sort of dog; something that made you blearly look up at him from amidst the tears. “Listen, I’ve gotta go but, look after yerself alright?” 

_ This made him so fuckin’ uncomfortable. Gotta blast. _

“_Alright..._” you managed, too weary to hold any emotion other than the melancholy you’d become so attached too. 

“Alright.” Angel repeated with a heavy sigh, turning heel to see himself out.

“Wait!” He nearly groaned, _ set him free already. _ He looked over his shoulder with a frown and a raised eyebrow. _ What, did you want to be tucked in now? _

“...Thanks.” 

He stared at you like you were out of your goddamn mind. “Yeah, yeah, _ whatever.” _Before you could say another word, he disappeared out of the door, eager to get the fuck out of town. Needless to say, you passed out soon after.

The next morning, you woke up with the worst hangover of your _ life. _

Niffty didn’t pester you, and the alarm clock didn’t go off, indicating that someone either turned it off or you just forgot to set it. The last one was more probable. Everything was a _ blur, _ pushed together that made you wince whenever you tried to make out the nitty gritties of what had happened. Okay, there was Husk. Groceries. The bar. _ Friend drowning you in the water. _Angel Dust. Everything else was to the wind. You clenched your fingers into the blankets at the thought of the new memory that had been stirred up, before ultimately peeling yourself out and forcing yourself into a new, cleaner attire. 

_ You didn’t want to think about it. _

But it was inevitable. Who was the _ friend? _ Was it a friend? The face was unrecognizable, blurred out from the ripples of the water. You couldn’t help but feel _ some _ recollection to the memory, however, some sort of forlorn emotion of _ betrayal. _ You had known him, her, it, _ them _ somehow. You swallowed down the lump in your throat with a breath, grabbing your _ handy dandy _ broom from its positioning of leaning against the wall, and heading down the stairs.

The first one to grab your eye is Husk, who is walking back towards the bar. His ear pivots in your direction before his eyes do. He flashes you a half-assed twitch of his lips because apparently you’re _ ‘friends’ _ now. “They’re makin’ you fuckin’ _ work?” _He points to the broom, his rough voice scratching at your brain. He shook his head, turning back around and walking back to the bar. “I know I ain’t.” He mutters just loud enough for you to hear. 

_ You wonder briefly if you’re even allowed a day off. _

You mind wasn’t allowed to wander for long, the sudden feeling of a presence behind you capturing your attention long before you went down _ that _ road again. You weren’t sure what you noticed first, his actual body standing side by side with you or his shrill, very _ loud _ voice.

“My, _ someone’s _not off to a very good start!”

You jumped, looking over your shoulder at the individual that literally materialized out of oblivion. _ You would never get used to that. _At least you had your broom to keep you steady. “I just woke up.”

“Considering how shaken you were last night and _ full _ of giggle juice, I wasn’t sure if you’d _ ever _ wake up, my poor, _ poor employee _ !” He pulled you into him by the shoulders, chatting your ear off about how absolutely ‘out on the roof’ you were. His slang wasn’t the thing that bothered you, but instead a mixture of the proximity and how you _ didn’t _ remember. Right when he was taking a breath before _ ultimately _continuing how entertaining it had been, you took your chance to interrupt him.

“What’d I _ do?” _You pulled away from his grip, and he let you. A wry laugh spilt past Alastor’s lips, the demon giggling away like a schoolgirl that knew one too many secrets.

“What _ didn’t _ you do, darling?” 

Your eyes immediately widened, the blood draining from your face as you looked him up and down.

“_ I- We--” _ You stumbled over your words, a heavy blush adorning your face all at once. “_We didn’t.” _

He looked _ stumped_. The crack of his neck breaking silence as he tipped his head to the side. “Didn’t _ what?” _ Just by his confusion alone, you were able to let out a very heavy breath of relief. You raked your hand through your hair, suddenly laughing at the _ nonsense _ of the thought. A ‘thank God’ fell silently from your mouth, unsure if it was actually _ legal _to say His name in vain.

“Although,” Alastor quipped, lifting a finger - you could almost see the lightbulb that went with it, “you _ did _seem bothered by something last night.” 

And just like that, you spun back around with a singular _ “Nope.” _ Alastor seemed ready to question you when he simply shrugged it off.

“Very well, it’d be a shame if our employees felt uneasy in the very hotel they _ live _ in.” He sighed in dissatisfaction with how you were adamant on not telling him _ every little thing_, hand pointed inwards to his chest. “Just checking in! But since you’re so very eager to get to _ work, _” he shooed you away. 

_ That didn’t mean he’d given up, however. _

Routine was comforting, to say the least. What more could you want than a peaceful time sweeping the same halls you’d swept every single day? It did take your mind off things, for the most part - occasionally finding your girp tighten on the brroom as you felt yourself swallow phantom mouthfuls of water - like you were still drowning. You even had the pleasure of being jumpscared to aid the process of distraction.

“My! What a wonderful job you’re doing, my dear!” _ Suspicious. _ You narrowed your eyes. _ He was never ‘nice’ to you. _ Every time you would look in his direction, he would turn his way inhumanely fast as if he had been _ staring at you. _

“Alright, what’s the deal?” You huffed, finally having enough of his shenanigans. 

“A _ deal?” _His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. He was in front of you in an instant. “Why didn’t you say so!” The blast of emerald flame that erupted from his outstretched palm didn’t tempt you whatsoever to make whatever deal he was on about, regardless of what you were thinking. Husk immediately was looking up from whatever drink he was absolutely guzzling, nearing choking on it. 

“Nooo-” you managed, not even wanting to push his hand away at fear of what might happnen to you, “-thaaaank you.” In another flash, it was gone. He looked down at you with disappointment, before looking at a clock on the wall. 

“Oh, dearie me! Would you look at the time, _ farewell! _” Just like his little magic scheme, he was gone too.

_ You were going to have an aneurysm. _

It wasn’t the last time he bothered you either.

_ “Do you happen to have a minute?” _

_ “My dear, I believe you missed a spot!” _

“Hel-” you’d_ slammed _ the door on him before he could finish his sentence. Charlie taught you that one. In any case, you’d managed to slip away to a quiet, _ undisturbed _ area of the hotel; avoiding Alastor only to allow the thoughts in your head to consume you once more. You sighed.

Your splitting migraine was going away over time, albeit slowly. It made working _ difficult. _

It made _ everything _ difficult. 

An unusual silence hung over the foyer; the usual hum of chatter void. Overall, the Hotel itself was all _ too _ quiet. The gentle scrape of the broom against the floor was all that there was to keep you company along with your frantic mind; still trying to make sense of all that there was to make sense _ of. _The more you thought of it, the more you came up empty handed.

_ It frustrated you to no end. _

With a sigh, you ‘_kept up the hard work _’ - voices conversing from the lobby catching your attention, only for it to die down after a few moments. You stopped in your aimless sweeping. 

“Ugh, this is _ pointless _…” you leant on the broom, a frown lacing your lips. It was hard to not let your mind wander.

_ Would it have been better if you never got those memories back in the first place? _

Perhaps you would have been able to bring yourself to believe your _ own _ lies if you knew in the first place. _ Murderer. _ The claim didn’t _ stick _ with you. With a deep breath, you close your eyes for a long, drawn out moment in desperate thought. _ It just didn’t add up. _ You were forced to make assumptions that had the possibility of being completely wrong, and worse of all, you weren’t sure how to _ trigger _ ** _more_ ** _ memories. _You were left at a dead end. 

_Perhaps you belong here, _you mused silently; truly, it wasn’t _half-bad. _It wasn’t ‘_Hell_’ in the sense of eternal fires and whatnot, in fact, _there were actually ‘nice’ people here. _The thought of it being a mistake was inevitable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to humor the thought any longer than necessary.

_ Because God didn’t make mistakes. _

Did you even _ want _ to learn the rest of your past? All you could recall was a fuzzy memory from your childhood and that _ blurred _ image of somebody you called a _ friend _ above you as you sunk deeper and deeper into an abyss, drowning.

But that was merely speculation. _ Was it a friend? Was that how you died? Maybe you weren’t at a beach at all. You had no clue! _

With a heavy breath, you ran your fingers through your hair. You vaguely remembered that singing often brought you happiness as a child; but would it now? You hummed, the buzzing upon your lips a welcome sensation. A sense of familiarity rushing through you; it felt natural. _ Perhaps you could try. _

You peeked out of the door, looking left, then right, then left again. Silent. Quiet. _ Alone. _

“Hear that music, isn’t it sweet?” The words fell from your mouth before you could even process it, your humming filling the silence. You looked back to your trusty broom, the first of rare smiles during this trying time forming against your expression. 

“Come on baby, _ shake your feet_.” It sounded silly, considering that you were just _ talking _ to yourself than actually _ singing_. 

You didn’t want to disturb anyone, in fact, you didn’t want _any_ attention to fall onto you during this. It was easy to feel _free_ when you were alone. Of course, there were a few exceptions. You recalled briefly the events that had occurred the previous night. Sincerely, you couldn’t remember a time what you had as much _fun_ as you had with the winged feline. 

Husk didn’t seem to care about much, only drinking, gambling and other hellish delights. He was selfish, _but perhaps even a bit kind. _You stepped back into the room once you were confident you were alone, allowing your humming to grow louder - swaying your hips in the moment. A strange, foreign confidence sprouting from within, and, even if you weren’t certain where you were going with it; _it_ _felt good_.

“Walk right in, sit right down,” like your body, your hands are articulative and full of motion -- shamelessly pretending a customer had come into the Hotel, you motion to the bed, imagining it to be a couch; free of cobwebs and collecting dust.

“_And baby, let your mind roll on~,_” you continued to sway in a silly manner with the broom, as if you were truly dancing with someone. You remembered how there had been a moment when the broom had been dressed up in Alastor’s fiasco, a laugh betraying your inner turmoil. You looked down at the inanimate object in fondness; _ your trusty broom. _

You extended your arm as you continue on your merry little way: “Hey, walk right into this _Happy Hotel_, stay a little while,“ you spun, leaping over to the doorway that lead to the balcony. With a dip, you used the end of the broom to sweep up an non-existent coat and winked a goodbye to the invisible customer. You followed ‘_them_’ out and took one glance at the crimson skies above: “-_but baby, you can’t stay too long._” 

You longed to see Earth again,_ the bright blue skies _ ; the glorious sights. Despite the horrors you faced inside the Hotel, you felt at _ home _ . You felt like you _ belonged. _ “What a glorious feeling!” You shut the door again with a wink, a small giggle playing at your lips. Nevertheless, you found yourself drifting out into the hallway, peering at the portraits of the Magne family that adorned the walls. Your voice had become quieter, your thoughts wandering over the thoughts of whether or not _ you _had a family. 

_ Well, you had to have come from somewhere. _

There was an image of Charlie’s mother—Lilith—holding Charlie as a toddler. They were at a beach. You imagined yourself upon the beach, alongside blurred features. _ You felt… happy. _ “I’m happy again, I’m laughing at the clouds,” your song was soft and full of heart, and despite the feeling of unease and of being _ watched, _ you held your nerve. “So dark up above, the sun’s in my heart, this is a brand new start!” A childish giggle being released as memories began to flood into your mind of the _ good _ times in your life. 

Your finger dragged along the intricate designs of the picture frame. _ Expensive_. You pulled your hand away after a moment.

_ You had to have had a family. Somewhere deep inside of your gut, you knew that they had loved you, too. _

Then as if you’d returned to reality, you frowned. You were _ dead. _ Gone. _ Six feet underground_. That didn’t mean you stopped though, _ no_, you were too _ stubborn _ for that.

You couldn’t let this _ feeling _ fizzle out of existence. It was perhaps one of the only times down _ here _ that you felt like _ you_. _ And that was scary and enticing in itself all at once _ . Moving into the main lobby, you found that the muttering had ceased long before you arrived. Even Husk was somewhere that wasn’t at the bar. You were completely and utterly _ alone. _You watched your shadow move along with you with expert precision. “Let all the others fight and fuss— whatever happens, we got us…” you close your eyes, hooking your arm around a column and swinging yourself. 

The momentum and feeling of wind briefly in your hair rejuvenated your movements. Your shadow mimicked your actions, winding through the light the windows cast against the floor. It vanished - and _ he _ saw his chance. As you stepped into the light once more, your shadow followed in your footsteps, the two of you moving in synchrony as you beamed at the apparition at your feet. 

“My shadow and I - we’re close than pages that stick in a book,” you sang, striding along upstairs and picking up the pace as your watched your shadow against the wall, “we’re closer than ripples that play in a brook!” You turned to face the silhouette - managing to sidestep and shimmy your way with each word.

“Strolling down the avenue, wherever you find him, you’ll find _ me _ -” you twirled around, arms swinging by your side in a march as you gave your shadow a wink, _ “just look! _ We stick together like glue.” With that, you gave one last spin, imagining that your shadow would peel off the wall and catch you as you dipped into yet another unused room. _ There were a lot. _

“We’re alone but far from blue-” you cut yourself off, breath caught in your throat for a split second as you found your way along the room, cobwebs and dust adorned, the shadow having left you behind in the darkness, “-well, way down yonder in the depths of Hell, in the land of screams and _ screams _…” you spun, falling into the unused bed, sighing.

“There’s a Garden of Eden, ah, _ you know what I mean… _ ” you slowed, leaving reality behind you as you sung; the muffled babbling from company indicating a presence. With a grunt, you pulled yourself off of the bed again, turning to a balcony, watching the red sky and the lights of the city flicker from both afar and below. “_And then you stop. _”

You were in Hell. You were _ really _ in hell. 

“You bet your life you’ll linger there for a little while,” your voice was barely a whisper as you got up to approach the balcony, hands grasped at your shirt, soaking in the city scene. Some pornstars face flickering with a crooked smile on a broken screen, a banner with the words of Lucifer, and a broken down sign that stated ‘_fuck heaven _’, with blood spattering around it to cover the rest of the words. 

The spur of joy you’d felt turned into a dark pit that settled low in your stomach. Still, you continue, leaning on the ornate railing with melancholy in your heart.

“I don’t ever care to rise to _ power_, I don’t _ want _ to set the world on fire- I’ve lost all ambition for worldly acclaim,” each breath felt like you were descending down a staircase, your heart sinking as you fell deeper into despair.

“I’m all alone every evening,” you muttered, a tightness constricted your throat as your eyes pricked with tears. _ You were in Hell and there was no going back. _

You’d left everyone _ behind_, your parents, your _ friends_, you _ had _ to have had friends, despite how fuzzy the memories you were able to obtain. _ Did they miss you? Did they know you were dead? _ You took a shaky breath, trying to settle these forlorn emotions.

“All alone, feeling blue,” you didn’t understand. Singing was meant to make you feel better and it _ had_, briefly. But it wasn’t an eternal fix. You would never get that eternal fix. For that, you looked up at the lit up cloud that floated in the sky, a halo upon it, was close enough to touch it but far enough for it to _ just _ be out of your reach. 

“And I wonder where you are, and _ how _ you are,” your voice cracked as you allowed your body to slump to the side of the wall, “ _ and if you’re all alone too… _” the last note of the song was an ugly sob, replacing what had once been a happy tune. With your hands pressed against your face, you turned around, crumpling into a ball against the railing.

_ Alone. _

You sniffed pathetically into your sleeve, a frown adorning your mouth. There was a quiet click that caught your attention because you could drown in your _ depressing _ thoughts. You looked up from your arms, finding a curious and concerned individual looking directly at you. It was ironic with how many times she found you like this; so utterly swept up in your emotions that you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything that made a lick of sense. You felt _ pathetic. _ You didn’t even know who you _ were _ before you died. 

_ It wasn’t normal. _

Charlie walked over to your curled form, standing just in front of you before giving you her hand. You stared at it for a long moment, deep in contemplation. “It’s okay to feel lost in the moment, it’s _ okay _ to feel lost at sea,” she sang softly, her voice drifting around her softly. You looked up at her again, brows knitted before finally taking her hand. She pulled you up. “Because as long as you’re here, you have _ me.” _

She must have heard your song, a blush brought on by emotion and embarrassment adorning your face. You watched uselessly as she tapped her cheek, pulling her own mouth into a smile. “Let’s turn that frown upside down, take the initiative to _ push it away, _” she spun you around to look back over the hellish nightmare that was your city.

The lights flickered stunningly, a beauty that you hadn’t even _ realized. _ She lifted a finger beside you, a plume of smoke suddenly netting out of it as something flew into the atmosphere. _ Fireworks. _ She seemed pleased at your reaction, seeing the reflection of blues, greens, and _ colors that simply weren’t found here, _light up the sky. You were in awe. 

“..._ and maybe tomorrow we can begin a new day. _ ” She trailed off at last, turning to look at the fireworks as well. The two of you watched as demons of other complexes open the windows to look at the fireworks as well. When they ended, the two of you remained in a silence that was neither comfortable _ nor _ uncomfortable. “...Are you okay?” Charlie was the first to speak up, causing you to look up at her. 

“I remembered something that I don’t want to remember. I mean, I _ thought _ I wanted to, but it was-”

“Scary?”

You pulled your lips into a tight smile, your head nodding weakly as you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. You turned around, leaning your back against the railing. A breeze made your hair flutter forth before lying still again. You take a breath, letting your shoulders slouch in defeat.

“You don’t always have to come to my rescue, Charlie.”

You could feel her eyes on you, but before she could talk, you were already ranting away. “I just- I feel so _ pathetic _ sometimes. I hate feeling so _ down, _ like I can’t do anything about anything. It my own personal _ hell.” _She remained silent for a long moment, either at a loss for words or contemplating on what to say next. 

“I’m… not as happy-go-lucky as you think I am,” she said, causing you to lift your head slightly. This heart-to-heart, _ whatever _ it was, filled you with a sense of determination. “I’m a disappointment to my father. I’m just… not who he expected. An embarrassment to his name.” You weren’t really expecting _ Lucifer himself _ to be a good parent to begin with, so it didn’t necessarily surprise you. The thing that had surprised you most about him was the fact that he was practically an _ imp. _ You wondered how he managed to woo Lilith to begin with, then again _ , the promise of power did things to people. _

“My mom isn’t really… _ there, _ either.” She continued on with a heartfelt sigh, leaning against the railing in the same manner you were. “But I can’t really blame her. She’s a famous singer down here; she’s a busy woman. I just… wish things were like when I was younger.” _ Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn’t it? _

“You remind me of myself, if I didn’t have to wear this mask all the time for the sake of everyone else. _ For the sake of myself. _” She ended there, letting you process the information. 

“If… it makes you feel better, you’re a _ really _ good manager.” You weren’t necessarily trying to be funny, simply stating the truth as it was, but when she laughed, you couldn’t help but look up at her before letting a giggle flutter up from your chest. “I want to be good at something too, but I _ can’t. _ Not like _ this, _ Charlie.” You looked at the broom that was leaning against the end of the bed across the room with a forlorn expression. “I can’t be a _ cleaner _ for the rest of eternity.” You couldn’t amount to _ nothing. _

Just like that, something _ clicked, _ a lightbulb going off in your mind. 

_ “I want to learn to defend myself.” _


	17. And I Oop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it! 
> 
> Come join us [here!](https://discord.gg/nG4XzZr)
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE
> 
> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

There was a long moment of silence, drawn out enough to make you start to question if there would ever actually _ be _ a response. The ambience of the room consisted of the Hotel settling in, the creak of the floorboards made you believe that the facility was a lot _ older _ than you were originally led to discover. There was a subtle breeze that ruffled your clothing; the chill of the air causing goosebumps to appear across your skin. Perhaps it was time for yet _ another _wardrobe change— this one was better suited for the hotter months, the thin fabric doing little to accurately protect you from the elements. You brought a hand to your arm, rubbing it gently to elicit some sort of friction of heat. 

“...Are you _ sure?” _

She sounded uncertain, wary of the many ways that could go terribly wrong. You were a smaller individual in comparison to the hellish creatures that wandered the streets, but not as small as Niffty; you still towered over the energetic concoction of Alastor’s powers _ immensely. _ Charlie often felt bad that you had to look _ up _ all the time, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Nevertheless, she reminded herself that while you were still small, that didn’t mean you weren’t capable of defending yourself. 

She just never wanted the day to come where you actually had to. 

“I don’t want to always stand behind someone and hope for the best, Charlie!” You noticed the worried expression that she had failed to hide beneath a poorly veiled facade. “It’s just so I stay safe. Defense, that’s _ it.” _ There was a hand that was placed on your shoulder, and you looked up with wide eyes. And then you were suddenly pulled into a rib-breaking hug, the breath leaving your lungs in an instant. For a moment you remained still, contemplating on whether to try to _ breathe _ or to actually return the hug. 

You did both. 

“...You’re a really good friend, Charlie.” Your cheeks engulfed in a warmth, embarrassed but _ touched _ over the fact that she truly was the only one you could actually rely on as an individual to see things through. You squeezed your arms around her tightly, endorphins flooding into your brain at the sheer thought of the fact that _ this was your friend. _ This is what friends did. Friends didn’t _ drown you. _You frowned slightly at the memory, shaking it off because truthfully, it only gave you the heebie jeebies. Nausea settled low in your stomach before she finally released you. 

You stumbled back with a giggle, before she caught your arm to steady you— just so you didn’t flip off of the railing. “Just be careful, okay? We’re not… exactly _ equipped _ to deal with injuries.” You nodded, anxious to _ get started. _Charlie was the only motherfucker in this place that understood you. You were about to turn towards the door when she stopped you by calling your name. You turned your head over your shoulder to look back at her.

_ “You’re a really good friend, too.” _

Needless to say, you were quick to discover what you _ wanted. _ You wanted to feel the adrenaline to course through your veins, you wanted to show them you weren’t some weak-link, you wanted to _ kick ass. _ You were entirely certain that you would be the one to get their ass kicked, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be hopeful! The moment you stepped foot into the hallway, a wave of uncertainty and wariness rushed at you, covering you in fissures of doubt and indecision. The problem wasn’t that you _ couldn’t _do it, the problem was that you weren’t… entirely sure who to ask to help you. 

Charlie would be soft on you, not take your efforts seriously. Bless her heart, she no doubt knew how to hold her own and would be a formidable foe on the battlefield; but you wanted a _ real _ training session. _ You didn’t want to be useless. _ There was Vaggie, but she didn’t seem to be interested in the actions of the residents; simply remaining on the sidelines and making sure that the Hotel was running successfully. Niffty was someone you could probably just kick down the street, Alastor was— _ ha. No. _ That left Angel Dust. Begrudgingly, as you still were _ absolutely _ pissed at him for making you feel worthless and _ stupid, _you could recall bits and pieces of the situation from last night. 

Even though the memories were blurred together.

It was hard to accurately determine what happened and what _ didn’t _ ; so as you continued down the hallway and his looming wooden door came closer and closer, you tried to figure out what to _ say. _ You hesitated in front of the door, pausing for what seemed like an eternity. The last time you had stood in front of it was when you had been rejected his friendship with a big fat ‘ _ no.’ _

But this time you weren’t looking for his companionship. You were determined to prove you weren’t someone they could just _ walk _ over. You didn’t _ need _ to be friends with someone to _ work _ with them. Your knuckles connected with the mahogany wood, knocking once and then twice pathetically. Your lips turned into a frown, swallowing your apprehension and knocking a third time— _ harder. _There was silence, the one thing that filled the gaps between one moment and the next, and suddenly you were beginning to wonder if this had been a mistake. You had been impulsive. 

At last, to your relief or sudden demise, there was angry grumbling behind the door. Before you could even _ think _ about walking away, the door swung open. The blood drained from your face at the sight of the massive arachnid demon; it had been quite a bit since you had been this close to him. “The hell ya want now ya stupid—“ Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Whoever had been previously pestering him was simply _ not there. _ He cut himself off, eyes lowering to find _ you _. 

You crossed your arms. 

“I have a proposition,” you feigned your boldness because truth be told, you were _ nervous. _ There was a constant ambience of complete lack of sound, and you took that moment to peek up to gauge his reaction. He was staring down at you like you were some three-headed creature, speaking a foreign language. He looked at you as if you were a _ idiotic. _ As if you were in any position to make a proposition! He nearly lost it, holding his laughter in for the grand moment you revealed why the hell you had bothered _ him. _

Leaning against the doorframe as if he had all the time in the world, he humored you. “Yeah? _ And what’s that?” _

_ “ _ I… want you to teach me to defend myself, to _ fight. _ In turn, I’ll help you get more…” You trailed off, voice lowering as if you were keen to keep the secret only the two of you knew about. There’s a pause, and then you watch in slow-motion as he reeled his head back and _ howled _with laughter. He’s not laughing with you.

He’s laughing _ at _you.

You felt heat engulf your face in sheer, utter embarrassment, but you manage to hold your ground, his obnoxious laughter dying down into a fit of chuckles before wiping away a stray tear. “Toots, quit the tough gal act, it _ don’t _ fit ya.” He leered down at you now, the two of coming to the realization that you were still on _ extremely _ shaky grounds. It would take more than a drunken ‘thank you’ to stitch up the wounds that had been created. You deepen your frown, staring right back into those heterochromatic _ stupid _ eyes. There was a long moment between that point and the next, and you were entirely certain that he was attempting to _ intimidate _you. You were insufferably stubborn. 

With a scoff and a shrug of his shoulders, he leaned back and sorted through something just out of your view, _ grabbing _something, and then roughly brushing past you. He makes an effort to keep whatever he’s holding out of your line of sight. 

“Wait, _ really? _” 

There was no verbal response, no, there was a _ physical _ one. You watched as a third set of arms appeared from his waist, harboring a wooden bat. You trail behind him in uncomfortable tranquility, taking a moment to inspect the details as it hung carelessly over his shoulder. It was adorned with an array of spikes and nails, the wood encased in dry, stained blood that, despite trying desperately to wash off, simply did not. A feeling coiled low in your gut, uneasy and sickening. Nauseous. 

But you had come too far to just… _ chicken out. _

The moment the two of you exited the Hotel and walk down the driveway, you were being tossed a _ crowbar. _ The suddenness of action nearly made you have it fall from your grip. A _ crowbar? _ Your confusion was paramount but short-lived, your legs being swept from underneath you as you fell to the ground with a grunt. Suddenly, there was a bunch of nails and screws just barely touching your nose; so close you could almost _ feel _it. Your eyes traveled up the bat to the origin of your fall, the arachnid standing with a bored expression embellishing his features.

“Yer _ dead_.” He huffed, leaning an arm on his hip.

Eyes narrowing, you watched as he idly rocked back a few paces, almost bored. He swung the bat by his side casually and you took the time to push yourself up, attention on the ground as you winced in pain, a sharp sting rippling through your coccyx. If it hadn’t been for the click of his heel as he lunged forwards, you would have felt those nails drive into your flesh - clothes fluttering against your skin at the wind that’d been disrupted by the powerful swing. 

“_Angel! _” tripping over your own two feet as you staggered back, barely holding your balance.

Even with the force he’d used, he remained perfectly poised, now hitting the bat against the palm of a hand as if there weren’t sharp objects jutting out of it. 

“What!” He snapped, “too much for ya?” With that, he scoffed; originally to hide the laughter that crept up his throat and yet it soon spilt out. 

“Did ya _ really _ think it was gonna be _ easy? _ Wait - _ wait, _ ya thought _ I’d _ go _ easy _ on ya, oh that’s even better!” Bat now resting as a crutch, he tried to steady himself from the fit that’d come over him. “I thought we was meant ta be fightin’ not crackin’ each other up! Ya sure yer serious ‘bout this toots? ‘Cuz yer sure don’t look it ta me...” he trailed off, a smug pout adorning his features as you lift your crowbar - tight between your palms as you stared him down. The heat of your breath fanning your face as you felt the anger dye your cheeks a flush pink. 

“_Oho honey no, _ gettin’ angry won’t solve anythin’.” He hummed, the amusement in his tone replaced with something more sinister. “Yer just gonna get hurt.” 

But you were going to learn. 

You’d show him that you weren’t some coward and that you weren’t some _ loser_. A plan that was easier said than done as you fell to the ground over and over again. He barely used his bat - commenting he didn’t usually swing that way much to your annoyance. He’d been the one to tell you that you weren’t taking things seriously only to have him cracking jokes at you. That being said, when he did use it, you felt your insides churn, breath caught as the bat cracked against the crowbar, nearly wiping it from your grasp - pain shooting through your wrists with each hit - the blunt force vibrating through the crowbar in a moment of terror.

Each time you fell down he’d repeat the word ‘dead’. It happened again and again, driving you insane as you stood, arms and wrists aching only to be forced back and struck and eventually knocked down again. You could see it on his face that he was getting a kick out of your failure, in the way that you were utterly useless.

You gritted your teeth.

“_Dead! _ ” He called out obnoxiously, tipping his head to the side with a hand on his hip. “Ya _ really _ got a deathwish, don’t ya?” The additional comment wasn’t necessary— his _ behavior _ wasn’t necessary. You sat on the hard ground, bearing the pain that ricoheted along your spine like a bullet. You declined the thought of letting go of the crowbar; fingers curled around the metal frame. Each digit that rest beneath it felt _ raw _, as if the skin had been torn upon impact with the gravel. Without a word, you attempted to push yourself back up. 

You refused to give up. _ Not now. _

At the sight of the red scratches that’d been etched into your fingers, you winced. He made a ‘_ tch-ing _ ’ sound between his teeth, shrugging off some unknown thought before taking a step forward. There were a few things you learned by watching him over and _ over again. _ You knew to watch him, to keep an eye on his musculature; to try to figure out where he would strike next. No less, you wouldn’t go on the offensive— _ you had made a promise. _That, and you didn’t want to be anywhere close to him because that would mean-

_ “Shit!” _ You hissed, barely dodging the bat as it ruffled past your abdomen, the mere force alone would have been _ exceedingly _ painful if it had landed. Your hesitation was something that had been thrown out of the door the moment you picked up the crowbar, and in that moment of anticipation of the next move he’d make; you angled the bar so the bat would _ hopefully _ connect with _ it _and not yourself. 

A moment of beautiful realisation as you felt a flurry of splinters, loose bolts, and screws scatter to the ground with a metallic ringing; a cry escaping your lips.

You’d let go of the crowbar at the white hot pain that’d momentarily struck your wrists, the instrument having been pushed closer to your body.

“Oooh well would ya look at _ that_?” Angel cooed, fascination in his eyes as he lifted his bat, the crowbar wedged deep into the wood. By that force alone, you were _ certain _ he would have broken your wrists if you had been alive. The effeminate spider inspected the weapon thoroughly. “Ya really did a number on the poor gal.” He hummed, tugging out the crowbar with a grunt. 

_ The crowbar was bent. _

“Damn.” He tossed it back to you, said weapon clattering to the ground as you stumbled back. As the crowbar finally came to a rest, you felt your hopes of becoming stronger disappear into a hopeless reverie. The adrenaline that you had sought did not ease the pain in your wrists, your fight or flight instinct briefly taking control of your moments before you snapped out of it. 

_ There was hope for you yet. _

Angel already looked ready to murder you, as comforting as that thought was, poking the gaping wound in his bat idly.

“I see ya picked up on my lil’ routine there, guess imma have to change things up a bit now, ey?” Your eyes widened at his statement, causing you to recall what you’d forgotten in your forlorn thoughts.

_ Your weapon. _

Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, you couldn’t be a coward. You winced as you went to pick up the bat, your wrists nearly giving out by the pain alone, holding it unsteadily in your grasp. He’d been teaching you in his own way, and you’d _ learnt _ something. You could learn _ more. _Even if it was the knowledge that he was going to strike a certain way, you’d known because you’d watched him. 

_ You had to be aware of everything around you. _

A giddy excitement coursing through your veins as he stepped forwards once more, a broad grin lining his lips as his shadow fell over you intimidatingly. You didn’t move from the spot per say, but instead turning in place as he sauntered around you. Fear nipped at your spine as you repositioned yourself, _ waiting _for the moment he reeled the bat back and took another life-threatening swing at you. 

Just as you were about to immerse yourself in the moment, there was a shrill microphone screech that omitted from directly next to you. Instinctively your attention faltered, jumping out of your skin as you snapped your concentration to your left. There was a moment of radio silence before you felt the currents of air rush past you; the bat whizzing by your face. You managed to trip back at the very last minute with an exasperated and startled yell. 

It wasn’t like you could have been on the lookout for him, considering he just _ appeared. _

“Whatever could be happening over _ here, _ hm?” He stood a few feet from you, not appearing worried or _ remotely _ phased that he nearly teleported into the strike-zone of the bat itself. You take that moment to ensure that you wouldn’t be struck at by searching for the gaze of the arachnid demon. You watched as he placed the bat over his shoulder. That was the only agreeance you could make out from his shrouded expression, but truthfully, it was _ all you needed. _

The two of you were audibly panting from the exertion of your actions, you more so than Angel, understandably. Hands on your knees, you allowed the damaged crowbar fall from your grasp and clatter to the ground distinctly. 

“The fuck ya doin’ here?” Angel took the words right out of your mind, a frown adorning your lips as you peered up at them through your lashes. As if he weren’t just trying to kill you, the spider demon displayed a change of heart, striding over and batting his eyelashes at the Radio Demon. “Ya want in? Oh _ Alastor~, _ I didn’t take ya for someone who enjoys _ threesomes.” _

His tone was suddenly seductive, and you nearly choked on an inhale of air. The moment you felt static prickle at your skin, you took the chance to answer long before Alastor had the chance to. “No. _ No.” _You pointed a finger in accusation at the pornstar, before leaning down and picking up the crowbar. 

“Yer no _ fun, _toots.” 

You were sweating, despite it being absolutely _ bitter _ outside. The air burned your lungs as you inhaled deeply, turning to look up at Alastor. “Training.” You breathe out with a huff, shoulders slumping. You pushed the bent crowbar against his abdomen, considering it was actually where you _ stood _ in comparison to his height. You attempt to push him away: “ _ So if you would be so kind.” _ You had desperately underestimated the situation you were in, considering that Angel Dust was even taller than _ he was. _

If just barely. 

You turned to said demon then, returning your crowbar to your side. Like some gift that came down from Heaven itself, he took the initiative of how to fix your stance, without you even asking. He didn’t go into much detail, of course, sincerely believing you needed to discover for yourself and partly because he couldn’t be _ bothered. _It didn’t take long for you to figure it out, thankfully, despite the few clumsy steps in the beginning. 

Alastor let out a hum, stalking off towards the Hotel when Charlie had quite literally thrown herself in front of him, arms outstretched in distress. 

“Wait, wait Alastor, please!” She exclaimed, the Radio Demon stopped, twirling his microphone before looking down on her with a smile.

“Why, what ever could be the matter Charlie, dear?” He inquired inquisitively, Charlie pulling herself together and sorting out her attire with a polite smile in return.

“You see, I’m pretty busy right now and I was wondering if maybe you-” she pointed at him on ‘you’, following through with the rest of her sentence and motioning to the respective parties, “-would mind keeping an eye on those two, while I head on inside to get some things done.” He held up a palm, silencing her. There was no need to ask again, Alastor glanced over his shoulder at the sparring pair, oh how you were failing miserably! How _ entertaining _it would be to watch you continue.

“It’d be my pleasure!” Alastor exclaimed, shooing along Charlie and ushering her towards the door, “now go on, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to do! I’ll be perfectly fine here!” A choked sound left Charlie’s throat as she went to say something, cut short as Alastor bid her farewell. With that, he was free to return to the fight, situating himself on the outskirts of their playing field as he crossed his arms behind his back. 

Observing the match, he kept his composure - unable to smile much more than he was already. Yet every time you staggered at the force of a blow or fell to the ground, his grin stretched to its limits. Why, it was entertainment at its finest!

So much so he couldn’t resist but crack a laugh. It’d distracted you at first, your gaze whipping around to see where it was coming from and low and behold: Alastor. His laughter went right through you, striking every nerve on the way. You’d barely even noticed Charlie who worriedly had been looking on prior, but_ Alastor_. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb for starters - but that static ridden laughter made your face heat up in embarrassment. 

As you desperately tried to maintain your focus, it nagged at you, that _ mocking laughter_. 

You couldn’t focus like this. _ You hated it. _ Whipping your head around, mouth open to yell at him, you found yourself reel back as something connected with your abdomen. Angel stepped back, his eyes wide as you glanced down at your stomach. Your white shirt was torn, a red stain seeping into the fabric and gradually growing as you both stared in horror and fascination at the wound.

You’d felt the flesh tear, felt the skin being ripped as the bat had caught you;_ it burnt. _

With your hands hovering just above your belly, you tried to process what had happened, your mind in shock. You daintily picked at the bottom of your shirt, peeling it upwards to get a better look at the gash now carved into your body, chest heaving as you bit your bottom lip - cutting short the hiss that’d seeped past them.

It didn’t look that deep, not fatal at least - the only thing breaking the silence being the quiet comment dropped by Angel, a soft murmur: “_Aw shit_.” You could barely hear it over the blood rushing through your ears. Instinctively, you placed your hand over the slices, the rivulets of blood encasing the silhouette of your hand. 

Alastor had the perfect view for the whole spectacle; arching back as he stood tall, torn between her expression of pure horror and the crimson liquid that pooled over her fingers - his own face warming to a similar shade. 

Your heart rate was slow, everything set in slow motion as a gasp reeled all three attentions to the origin. Your reaction was slower, dazed, while the other two looked like they had been caught doing illegal shenanigans. Your eyes danced across Charlie’s face, narrowing your eyes. Well, your efforts of being able to protect yourself had all gone to moot; and worst of all, the princess still stormed out of the Hotel’s entrance like some sort of knight in shining armor. You didn’t need her to always be there to save the day. You didn’t _ want _a knight in shining armor. 

_ You didn’t want to be useless. _

Suddenly Angel Dust and Charlie were found to be in a heated argument. A soft sigh passed from your lips, training your eyes back down to your stomach that you were now holding pressure against instinctively. The adrenaline from the training session and shock from what had actually happened did well to numb the pain, at least. 

“You almost _ killed her!” _Charlie stomped up to the effeminate spider.

“That is practically _ impossible! _ ” Limbs were flying in exasperation, held out at the sides of his body. There were slurs passed between the two of them, Angel automatically defending himself by stating ‘how could you learn if you went _ easy?’ _You felt your lip twitch, coming to terms with the fact that neither of them were going to help you. 

Maybe you could do something for yourself for once. _ You weren’t a child. _

“Well, _ that _doesn’t look good!” You barely jumped at the exceedingly loud voice that originated from a presence next to you. You looked up, still confounded by what exactly had happened and the pain that was beginning to ebb slowly back into your body as the adrenaline faded away. “You should get that checked out.”

His tone was proud, matter-of-fact as he bent over to look at the wound on your stomach. You gingerly placed the shirt back down over it, wincing as the fabric sank into the slices, before replacing your hand over it. A face was made in response. 

He straightened back up in a blur, tilting his head, a mischevious expression adorning his face. _ You immediately knew not to trust it. _ Your physical reaction was enough to spur on his continuation: “Well, you’re in luck! _ I _ just may happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve!” That didn’t make you feel better at _ all. _ Eager to decline his offer because you could wrap yourself up _ just _ fine_, _you were cut off by a familiar voice before you even opened your mouth.

“Wait in the kitchen! I’ll be right there!” 

Your eyes immediately narrowed, darting back to Alastor. He seemed pleased with this turn of events. With a huff, you nonetheless let him escort you to the Hotel, and when you question why he insists on doing it, he explains with an annoyingly chipper voice: “So you don’t hurt yourself more!” At the very least, he didn’t touch you, and for that you were entirely too relieved. ‘Escorting’ was a loose term, considering while you limped, he strolled in front of you as if he had a very important meeting to attend to. 

The Hotel smelled _ welcoming, _ and with the bitter cold being chased away by the warmth, you felt yourself begin to relax. And you would have completely, if you weren’t _ injured and bleeding. _ Thankfully enough, you didn’t have to walk too far, as the kitchen was rather close to the entrance. Upon entering, you’re half-surprised to find that the Radio Demon _ stays, _ half disappointed that he just won’t leave you _ alone. _

“Get on the counter.” 

_ Excuse me, what. _

The moment his command is realized, you stare at him blankly, your mouth forming a straight line. For you to succeed on ‘getting on the counter’, you would have to jump up and ultimately stretch your stomach to sit on it.

“I _ can’t.” _

He approached you with a roll of his eyes and the moment you’re about to tell him not to touch you, you felt his hands beneath your shoulders as he lifted you onto the counter with _ ease; _as if you weighed no more than a feather. It immediately dawned upon you that he could literally beat the shit out of you if he truly desired. A chill ran up your spine, suddenly uncomfortably with his close proximity-- as if you weren’t already before.

“May I see?” 

_ “No.” _

You watched his hand in silence, narrowing your eyes as he completely disregarded your request of _ not touching you _ , and peeling your hand off of your shirt with little resistance. There was no point to fight him on it; your chances were laughable. Grimacing, you looked away the moment he peels up your shirt, the sharp inhale he takes causing your face to heat up in embarrassment; it was as if he thought the slices across your stomach looked utterly _ delicious. _

He stood there for a moment too long, forcing you to look back up to him. His face was contorted in feigned concern, not bothering to hide the amusement that littered his features. Your embarrassment started to fade into anger, because if he hadn’t _ laughed at you, you wouldn’t be here right now. _ You watched the bastard subtly _ lick his lips, _ shaking out of his reverie. Your heart lurched uncomfortably as you met his eyes. His gaze was still wholly focused on the wound, before turning his attention to _ you. _

“You should know better.” He tsk’ed at you. You frown further, deciding that staying silent was your best option at this moment. Oh, but the things your would say if you were not wounded! Your fingertips picked at your pants anxoiusly as he leaned over you to grab the first aid kit, placing it beside you before balling up your shirt around your waist so it wouldn’t fall back down. You had to hold yourself back from pushing him away when you felt his claws trail up your sensitive skin, exceedingly close to the wound itself. You managed, _ barely. _

He didn’t spare you a glance as he sorted through the kit again, snatching an alcohol disinfectant and a medical towelette. He doused the cotton in the disinfectant before, not even waiting for you to prepare yourself, pressing it into the slices against your skin. His strength truly knew no bounds, enforcing his grip just enough to illict a reaction of pain. He was searching for a _ wince, _but not to damage the poor employee further. The bastard got what he wanted, your stomach clenching the sudden pain shooting through it. You let out a whine, involunarily and naturally. 

“Does it hurt?” He hummed, continuing to hold the towel to your stomach. Despite your face contorted in pain, you managed to get enough space between him and the cupboard to kick his leg. He deservered it, even if he was helping you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You spoke quickly, as if to save your own ass. “It just hurt.” 

He pressed down harder, making your eyes squint. His smile contorted unnaturally into a crooked grin. Biting your lips, you finally released a breath you didn’t know your were holding once he released the pressure off of you. With it, the blistering pain began to fade away, the disinfectant already seeping into the slices and relieving you of any concern of infection. Your eyes fell to where he now stood, pulling a gauze out of the kit.

“Well, good news! You don’t need stitches!”

“Did you get hurt a lot when… you were alive?” Your voice was small, uncertain as to why he would know about whether or not you would need _ stitches. _He paused in his movements, and you sincerely thought you fucked up when his grin stretched inhumanely across his face.

“_No.” _

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, the static dancing across your skin. _ The quicker you got out of here, the better. _Strolling back over to you with a hum playing on his lips, he wrapped the gauze around your waist until he was pleased with what it looked like. It was a bit too tight for your liking, but you remained quiet. 

The sound of approaching footsteps made you perk up, hoping it was exactly who you wanted it to be.

It was.

“So sorry for the wait! I- _ oh.” _You slid off of the counter, finally allowed to flatten down your blood-stained shirt as you looked to Charlie. Now that your gauze supported your wound, you could let your arms fall to your side in ease, nevertheless, any movement you made brought you discomfort. 

Once realizing you were safe and already patched up, she was ultimately pleased over how Alastor did a _ fabulous job. _The demon in question radiated pride as if he were getting praised for being a good boy scout. 

Rubbing your side gently, you decide to take the rest of the day off. 

_ Lucifer knows you deserve it. _


	18. Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter as yesterday's chapter was the main one, but here's Friday's update! Enjoy!
> 
> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

Losing time in wallowing was something you were an _ expert _in. 

Of course, there wasn’t much to _ do _ when you were couch-ridden. The moment you had sat down, you sunk into the cushioning and were more than happy to remain there for all eternity. The television offered some entertainment to appease you, but the shows were less family-friendly and had more to do with the demise of others. It was hardly something you found appealing, more appalled by some of the more grotesque films. Pornographic shows were a fan-favorite apparently, and you nearly choked on a lung when you saw a very well-known individual pop up on a screen in a very lewd and revealing outfit. And then he was without it.

_ Time to switch channels. _

With a couple of clicks, you flicked past a channel - immediately regretting your actions as a bold _ ‘hi there’_, caught your interest. Cursing silently, you jammed the remote, going back to see the interesting looking demon.

“-Blitzo--_ the O is silent _ \--and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!” The advert already had you hooked, “are you a piece of shit that got yourself stuck or are you an innocent soul who got _ FUCKED _ over by some-one-else?” The burly looking demon that was presented to you made you giggle, out of sheer boredom maybe, something about the poorly painted sign that read ‘some guy who hired us’ in all capitals, or perhaps even the aggressive nature of their ‘_client _’.

You leaned your head in your hand, repositioning yourself in a more comfortable position. Pain seared through your abdomen, yourself briefly forgetting the fact of why you were watching television to begin with.

“After lovingly killing my wife for _ FUCKING A DELIVERY MAN_, you can imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the State of Ohio killed me! I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!” It definitely sold, you mused, intrigue piqued as it returned to Blitzo. 

“Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world, we can help you take care of unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over while _ you were alive_!” Images of your death shrouded your mind, the emotionless gaze, the blurred faces. The thought crossed your mind for a brief moment that _ maybe _you would. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it in that instant, finding entertainment in the dumb jingle that played, despite the grotesque scenes that were laid out on screen for you to enjoy.

It was a thought that lingered on your mind, even as you sought out some genuine demon connection or something, after all, the television wouldn’t entertain you forever. 

“Husk?” You called out, voice somewhat meek to draw sympathy you knew you wouldn’t get.

“What?” He huffed, muffled by his arms - causing you to shout for him again. “What, I said _ what! _” 

“Is there _ really _ a portal to Earth?” There was a moment of silence, your head craning over the back of the armrest as you waited for a response. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know, _ probably?_” You let out a hum, attention focusing on the ceiling as you pictured a portal to Earth above your head, immediately reaching out for the pen and paper behind you on the end-table to scribble down information. Perhaps to even doodle what said portal may look like.

You also jotted down the name ‘_Blitzo _ ’ as well as the company name just in case you ever needed it. You doubt that there would ever be a day, but you reassured yourself it may come in handy. _ Maybe. _The thought of using them as your guard dogs when Alastor pestered you ensured the fact that your humor was still very much in tact. 

_ “My, don’t you look like death itself!” _ Speak of the devil, Alastor casually strolled into your line of sight. You barely caught Husk mumbling something although what, you weren’t quite sure. You felt his annoyance on a personal level. “It must be _ so _ boring for such an active soul such as yourself to be bound to a dismal routine of lounging around!” His voice was literally an exclamation point, and you never did get used to how insufferingly _ chipper _ he was, _ constantly. _

_  
_ Without a care in the world, he’d rounded the back of the sofa, palm skimming the top of the backrest until he came to the other end. 

“Something has been bothering me for quite some time, however, and I thought you might be able to enlighten me!” The static whined momentarily as he grinned at you, resting daintily on his hands on the edge of the arm rest. You moved, briefly, wincing as the muscles in your belly tensed uncomfortably; a sharp sting pricking at your nerves. _ “Besides,” _ Alastor began. You internally groaned, letting your head fall back on the arm rest again.

“A bit of company would surely cheer you _ right _up!” 

_ What fun. _

It hadn’t been as bad as you’d originally thought, the mere thought of Alastor’s presence annoying you to some extent, but as he interrogated you on modern day affairs, you couldn’t help but enjoy the chance to reminisce at the time when you had been alive. There wasn’t much you could remember, of course, but simple talk of radio was enough to hold your attention for a brief time. At business he had lost you a bit, and by the time you had hit politics you were long gone. 

He spoke of catalysts of human displeasure and anguish and you’d just kind of _ drifted off. _

You continued to drift off until you felt a pressure on your leg, glancing down to see he had rested a hand against it, each digit tapping against it in a repetitive pattern. Watching him like a hawk, you barely registered the way your face twisted into a disapproving expression. 

“Whatever is the matter, my dear?” Alastor cooed, head cocked to the side. “Are you too warm? You know this blanket will be smothering your wound.” _ That made no sense. _Before you could protest, he had alleviated you of your ‘burden’, the sheer sadness reflected in your eyes as you watched your blanket being taken from you.

“Oh,” you managed, Alastor cutting you off as he crouched beside you; unnerving you in the process. 

“Now, I’ll hear no complaining. Have you ever had a wound like that before?” You both knew the answer. “Just leave things to me.” He looked proud of himself. _The smug bastard._

“No - it’s fine though, just gimme the blanket!” You attempted to grab at it, Alastor already standing a few paces from the sofa, the blanket safely in his arms.

“Ah, you’ll hurt yourself more if you behave like that.”

“_I want the blanket_.” You bit back the hints of pain that tried to show, Alastor shaking his head and patting the blanket with a chuckle.

“I’m afraid not!” He exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder as he whisked away your perfectly good cover. “I’ll be _ right _back.” 

_ Perfect, _ because that’s _ just _ what you wanted.

You crossed your arms at your chest with a huff, a frown upon your lips. The chill of the Hotel always managed to ensure you didn’t overheat during the warmer months, but now it was just an unwelcome reminder of how the dapper, unfair, _ insufferable _demon had ripped you from your warm clutches. 

“Husk!” 

“...Not this shit again, the fuck do you want _now?” _You heard an alcohol bottle slam against the counter, his grumpiness a refreshing trait from the cheerful presence you had just encountered. Except, he wasn’t entirely _cheerful. _He was a shark behind a thin glass enclosure, a presence that you were fully aware of having undeniable strength and power, demonstrated just fractionally about how easily he had lifted you onto the counter. He was _quick, _his true motives unknown, his purpose in the Hotel a guessing game at this point. 

“He stole my blanket.”

“So?”

“Can you pretty please get me another one?” You would have batted your eyelashes at him if he hadn’t been across the room, drinking away his sorrows and problems. There was silence, before a grumbling was heard, briefly picking up bits and pieces about how he wasn’t a ‘fuckin’ maid’. This blanket would be something you held onto. You had made a mistake by letting Alastor have the upper hand, and, if you had to reopen the wounds on your still healing stomach to hold onto it, you would.

_ It was cold. _

Without grace, he dropped the blanket onto you. The journey to the other end of the room having worn him out as he fell to the floor in front of the couch, hunched over as he folded his legs and eyed you with the same level of irritation you might get from bartender that was not only working overtime, but on a _ holiday. _ You furrowed your brows, wrapping yourself in the blanket.

“What are you staring at?” You huffed, Husk raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Your ugly-ass face.” He deadpanned. With that, a moment of silence, an impish smile creeping its way onto your lips. _ “What?” _

The look on his face the second your hand made impact with his head - not in a violent way, you pat him; it was something you wish you had caught on camera. You ruffled his fur and began making for an ear before he could realize what was even_ happening. _

_ He had cute little baby cat ears. _

You nearly lost an arm as he lashed out, batting away your hand in a slur of curses. Even after his little temper tantrum was over, he simply remained put, scolding you for being such an annoyance, put politely compared to what he really said. Eventually, however, he asked you how you felt.

You looked at him in surprise, before the smile that had been chased away met your lips again. Albeit lightly.

“A little better,” you sighed, “much better with a blanket.” His ears splayed across the sides of his head, attention drifting to the fireplace. Even with the fire that crackled, it was _ freezing. _He hadn’t been kidding when he stated that the elements were extreme.

“_Suppose it could be warmer._” He grunted, a familiar voice calling your name, and with it, your hopes of forgetting his little fiasco. You had the honor of hearing exactly what Husk called the Radio Demon for once, his focus solely on you. “That son of a bitch botherin’ you too?” 

“You’re not the one he’s been pestering constantly!” You barked, voice hushed to ensure Alastor didn’t hear. He strode into the room, seeing your little ‘gathering’ and skipping a step in his stride.

“Isn’t this just cozy!” He chirped, clapping his hands together. He stepped over Husk, the feline forced to lean back or be kicked in the face. For a moment you thought he’d get up as Alastor took up residence on the arm of the chair furthest from you. “What were we talking about?” Something about the strained way the static seemed to hiss made you uneasy, pulling your legs up despite the pain to put more distance between the pair of you.

“Nothing.” Husk quipped, deciding to remain seated. 

_“Then shouldn’t you be tending to the bar?”_ The tension that hung in the air only added to your unease, finding yourself curling into your blanket further. The stinging in your stomach forced you to not take things too far, lest you reopen the wounds underneath the gauze. 

“He’s okay, he just brought me a _ blanket.” _You narrowed your eyes briefly at the last word, making a show of holding the fabic closer to you. 

“Ah yes, a blanket that’s _ smothering your wound!_” Alastor repeated his earlier phrase, “Nothing screams _ loyal employee _ more than a man that’s one step away from being a dewdropper and a stubborn wallflower.” It didn’t help that you didn’t understand half the words that just left his mouth, but Husk clearly did to some extent, flicking the demon a middle finger. Both of them refused to budge. 

Alastor led the conversation as he always did, making subtle jabs at Husk at every opportunity that revealed itself. 

It eventually got to a point where the feline had had enough of it and decided to do what he did best: _ drink and wallow in his misery._

Alastor watched him go, giving him a wave before tapping your knees with his microphone. The tap to your knee immediately made you kick your leg out, similar to how a doctor would determine your reaction times.

“Don’t even _ think _about it.” You hugged your blanket closer, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I truly do not understand why you don’t listen to _ advice.” _

“It’s _ not _ advice,” you muttered, annoyance in your tone over the fact that he chased away any conversation that was _ welcome. _ It wasn’t advice when he literally stole your _ blanket, _ fully aware of the fact that you couldn’t get up and try to take it back from him. You weren’t sure why he insisted on pestering you without end; his actions and demeanor cryptic, changing often from one to another. There was never one _ singular _reasoning behind it, never illicting a shallow meaning. 

Whether it was out of malicious intent, curiosity, true concern, or if you were simply just another form of entertainment, you weren’t sure. Whatever it was, _ it wasn’t simple. _In fact, it had the power to be thought-provoking when you had the tolerance to wonder.

But right now, you didn’t have that patience. He had helped you, sure, but at what _ cost? _

He’d taken your blanket too. _ The heartless monster. _

Turning around with a wince, you settled onto your side, curling up and hugging the pillow and blanket closer to you. _ As if that could protect you from the shenanigans that no doubt were about to occur. _ Surprisingly, you found yourself to be comfortable, despite the pain that originated from your stomach and the pressure that the little-too-tight gauze caused. 

Your attention fell back onto the television that had been playing in the background, tuning it in and tuning _ him out. _

The more you ignored him, the more he _ touched you. _At first it had been the threat of him pulling away the blanket again, in which you held it tighter. He pinched, prodded, poked, invaded your personal space, but miraculously, you managed to succeed in flushing him out just like you did with everything that wasn’t of importance to you.

Of course, you had a line, as did everyone. Your head had been leaning comfortably across the armrest, your hair falling off it. He came around to your side of the sofa, hiding from your view. You didn’t care to follow him with your eyes, suddenly wondering if you had gotten the pest out of the room at long, long last.

And then there was a harsh tug at your hair, a roughness that made you yell out. You were _ pissed. _

You sat up the moment he let go, pushing up and ignoring the pain that surged through your abdomen. “Leave.” You turned around, walking over to him and pressing your hands to his own abdomen. “Me.” You attempted to push him away. “_ALONE! _ ” In your fit of brief rage, you could _ feel _ the sensation of your teeth growing sharper, nicking your lips and drawing out small rivulets of blood. 

The moment you caught the slow blinking eye of Husk, you snapped out of it.

You didn’t dare look up to see _ his _expression. “Just… leave me alone.” You removed your hands off of him and limped back over to the couch, lifting up your shirt just to reveal the gauze. Blood was beginning to stain it. 

_ Just your luck. _

Without much hope left, and like _ hell _you were going to let Alastor lay his hands on you again, you brought the remote up and lowered the sound of the television just enough to have the fireplace tune out the background noise. You curled yourself gingerly, gently, to be careful of your now reopened wound. Sleep had never been more welcome. 

Alastor remained closeby, the demon unable to draw his eyes from the vulnerable thing that slept on the sofa; _fascinated_ with her mannerisms, her reactions. She was enticingly _entertaining_. Out of all the inhabitants currently residing within the Hotel he’d grown an interest in her, pestering and berating her just because the kick was truly, always worth the effort_. _

_ Every time. _


	19. Begone, Thot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come join our family [here!](https://discord.gg/nG4XzZr)
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE
> 
> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

The fireplace still remained alive, you found out as you stirred from your light sleep; fed by the rich oxygen and wood of the Hotel. Though, you weren’t entirely sure if it run off of the same elements that it did upon Earth or rather, if it was simply a constant that roared to life whenever commanded to. The heat was the same intensity, warming your face and causing your cheeks to succumb to a light red shade. The flickering flames enticed you to simply drift back into the void of slumber, but your stomach growled its dissatisfaction of the idea. With a sound of despair and misery at the fact that you would indeed have to pull from the welcoming clutches of your comfort, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the low light; finding a body silhouetted _ just _ in front of the fireplace.

The sounds emitted from said individual were more akin to loud purring than actual _ snoring. _ Lifting yourself up with a single arm, there was a moment of confusion from the fatigue that plagued your mind before you came to the realization of who it actually was. _ Husk. _ His left wing was folded against his back while the other was shielded around him side like some sort of cover or _ blanket _. Clarity pooled within you over the speculation that the only other blanket in the lobby was somewhere in Alastor’s clutches. You frowned gingerly. There was a bottle of cheap booze next to him; you weren’t surprised that he had gone back to his origins, most likely drowning himself in the exquisite alcohol the moment he laid his hands on them. 

Fleeting thoughts eventually caused you to pull yourself together, your gaze moving to the armrest in order to help support your lower abdomen in pulling yourself up. There were countless relics in the Hotel you had yet to discover, an infinite amount of things that could pique your interest, but nothing did so suddenly when you saw deep indentations against the cushioning of the armrest itself. Despite your better judgment, you let your fingertips trail against them, eventually coming to an enlightenment of what, or in this case, _ who _caused them when you caught sight of an empty chair next to you. You stared at it for the longest time, your lip twitching.

You would give him the benefit of the doubt, lest you go apeshit over the fact that he was _ watching you sleep. _

Slowly, you pulled yourself up after a moment of preparing for the pain that would no doubt crawl up your stomach the moment you tried such. It was less intense, thankfully, but it still _ hurt. _You supposed rest did wonders, though. Or maybe it was because you were still in a state of stupor. Whatever it was, you couldn’t bring yourself to inquire over it for more than a few heartbeats, bringing your hand up to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes, releasing a small yawn. 

In doing so, you failed to miss the swinging of the doors to the kitchen, a well known and unwelcoming figure approaching you, as if he had _ known _ you would be up at this time.

“Now, what do we have here? An injured employee up and moving about?” 

The second your heard his voice, your dropped your hand from your eyes, internally groaning. _ You couldn’t escape him. _ He was quick in his movements, suddenly next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders before you could have time to react. “Oh, darling, this won’t do! _ You need your rest! _” He paused, leading you back to the couch, smushing you against his side painfully. 

“I _ just _ rested!” You declared softly, because _ people were sleeping. _

“Well, you can’t be wandering around like some _ twit _and getting injured again!” 

You tried to push yourself away from him, to no avail. “I’m _ fine, _” you muttered against his suit, entirely too tired to deal with this right now. Negotiating with the devil never turned out well, your words going in one ear and out the other. He sighed, loosening his grip on you as he motioned towards the couch.

“You don’t want your _ uselessness to reign, _do you?” 

You felt your eye twitch in annoyance before you ultimately sat back down on the couch. _ Again. _

“Now stay _ right _ there,” Alastor chirped. You simply stared him down, the demon humming to himself as he took off in the direction of the kitchen. It bothered you that he _ knew _ how you felt about yourself. _ He _bothered you.

With a shiver running up your spine, you glanced towards the fireplace. In any case, you knew you wouldn’t be left for very long, _ unfortunately. _

A stuffy heat lingered throughout the hotel, seeping from the kitchen, soon carrying the scent of _ food _ , only enticing your stomach to rumble. It then clicked in your head, was he cooking... for _ you? _ Hands skimming your arms, you found yourself doing as you were told; mind wandering to other ruminations, like the thought of him wearing that apron. _ Did he wear it every time he cooked or was it just a fever dream you had? _

When he finally strode in, he carried a bowl proudly between his palms. Then, he stood in front of you, offering it wth nothing but a grin.

“No - um,” what could you say? He’d already made it and really, you could eat anything by this point but not _ that _ ; no, nothing made by _ him _ . It was probably _ poisoned or something _ . When you failed to add any further explanation as to why you wouldn’t accept your bowl, he let out a hum, claws drumming on the ceramic; eyes narrowing as he sifted through a multitude of potential ways he could get what he wanted - _ you could see it _ . 

“Come now, surely you must be hungry? Think of your_ poor body _ trying to repair itself, only to be denied the sustenance it needs!” _ Yeah, like that made you feel any better. _You audibly groaned, showing your disapproval, Alastor only moving the bowl closer to you with an expectant grin.

When you continued to be stubborn, he simply bent over, placed the bowl in your lap, and proceeded to stand there.

It was _ scorching hot _, burning your lap and forcing you to lift it by the sides almost immediately. Obviously you didn’t get a choice, about to put it to the side when there was a particularly static clearing of the throat, that had you place the bowl back on your lap. Albeit, it was on the blanket that’d been previously discarded over the back of the sofa.

The second you picked up the spoon, swirling it in the suspiciously _ nice looking meal _you’d been given, Alastor decided to speak up.

_ “All of it.” _

“Alright, I _ will_.” You snapped back, irritated by his presence. Not him in particular, no, more so the fact that he stood directly in front of you, watching you eat like a _ creep_. “Can you _ not _ stand there, please?” He tapped a finger against his bottom lip, mulling the request over for all of about two seconds.

“Have you finished eating yet?” Caught off guard by the question, your gaze flickered from him, to the bowl, then back to him; the realization settling in that he meant he didn’t intend to move.

_ Not until you were finished. _

So you ate, knowing the sooner you finished, the sooner he’d stop standing there. Each mouthful of the exceedingly good meal only reinforced your bitterness as you refused to let any of the enjoyment show. It was harder than you originally thought. Finally, you scraped the bottom of the bowl, taking the last mouthful and returning the spoon to its origin. Satisfied, Alastor took the bowl from you as you offered it back, leaving you to fume in silence. 

He was _mothering_ you just like how Charlie had done; forcing you to debate whether it was possible for Alastor to even do this with _good intentions_, or if there was some sort_ of catch. He had to_ be up to something, although you didn’t doubt for a second he may just be using ‘kindness’ as an excuse to be an _ asshole _. 

Lost in a reverie lured in by frustration, you were left vulnerable; Alastor confirming the latter of your thoughts the second he appeared beside you. You’d leapt and screamed - pain erupting in your stomach at the sudden movement. The way his grin extended told you that he had been searching to elicit such a reaction from you. 

_ You were a toy. _

“Now, let’s see those bandages, shall we?” At those words, you nearly had a conniption, defensively holding the blanket to your body as if it would save you from the boogeyman. A frown laced your lips, shaking your head and attempting to shoo him away, the demon refusing to acknowledge your near assault at his own. 

The blanket was torn from your grasp within an instant, patience dwindling as he folded it up, pat it down and held it between his arms. The force of his grip against it strained the edges of the blanket, the atmosphere changed in an instant as he beamed down at you. 

“Dear, don’t make this any harder than it _ needs _ to be.” Despite the smiles and chipper tone, each word struck fear into your heart. Muscles rigid, you were unable to do anything but stare up at him. “Let’s take a gander at how those gashes are doing, shall we?” 

The way he always spoke like he was presenting, the static; it made you feel like there was an audience watching you suffer, bystanders in the _ game_.

Reaching for the bottom of your shirt, you begrudgingly lifted it to reveal the array of bloodied bandages that enveloped your body. _ No wonder you were in so much pain; _ the wound must have reopened itself. You didn’t know when it happened, _ but it had _ . Perhaps when you had been walking around in which case, you couldn’t believe you were thinking this, but Alastor was probably right about keeping yourself well rested. You were still set on believing that it was due to _ him. _

You watched warily as he kneeled down in front of you, your breath suddenly nervous and ragged as he brought his hands to your body. The closer he got to you, the more confidence that fled from your reach, despite your desperate grip to hold onto what little you had. With precision, you watched as he hooked a claw under your bandages and carefully sliced through them like a fine razor. You could _ feel _the serration and sharpness, the tips just barely ghosting over your skin. 

You involuntarily shuddered, a chill running up your spine at the sudden understanding of how utterly acutely sharp they were. _ It was odd. _ Everything about him was _ odd. _ How he carried himself, how he spoke, acted, _ revealed, _ all the attributes of someone you couldn’t begin to understand. He was mysterious; hard to know. _ If you could, would you want to? _ You supposed it wouldn’t _ hurt _to try, the mere thought coiling low in your chest uncomfortably. 

“Were you a doctor?” Your soft voice broke the silence that had been a fine line between uncomfortable and comfortable. He looked up at you for a moment, a forlorn look in his eyes already answering your question. Taking the old bandages, he placed them on the chair next to the couch, plucking the roll of gauze. He brought his attention back to your stomach, staring at it in contemplation or perhaps even some more malignant way, before tossing you a smile, _ different _from his norm.

“No, my dear.” His response was simple, as if it were a mundane conversation.

“...You just like healing people then?” You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing. He leaned down to observe the damage you had managed to do to the wound further, your question eliciting a visible reaction from his face as a laugh bubble in his throat.

“_Healing? _ Oh, if that’s what you wish to hear!” He joked. You weren’t amused. He noticed. “I don’t heal people normally, _ especially _ those who have a knack for getting themselves injured _ again _.” 

You remained silent, wondering why he was so insistent on bandaging you up and refusing to let Charlie or _ someone else _ do it. He worked in mostly silence, humming merrily as he brought disinfectant and a towelette to your wound again. You instinctively prepared, face knotting up as if you were expecting it to be the worst thing in existence. It stung, but you at least had been _ expecting _ it. He grabbed the bandages and gauze, wrapping it around you _ tightly, _constricting you. You made a face and a light noise. He looked up at you.

“It’s too tight.” 

“You’ll have to make do!” He replied in a flourish, standing up. His hands went to fix his hair as if caring for you had been _ such _ a daunting task. The moment he was finished, he leaned down. “ _ You’re welcome,” _ there was a dark undertone, almost akin to irritation or _ anger. _ “You should _ really _learn some manners! ...It could save your life.”

“I’m already dead.” You didn’t even _ think _ about what you said, the words leaving you as if your brain were on autopilot.

He burst out laughing, a wince adorning your features at the booming sound. His previous threatening demeanor had disappeared immediately, replaced with his mirthful chuckling. “Oh, _ you’re so entertaining! _ That’s why _ you’re my favorite!” _ He speaks as if it were some sort of declaration, as if you should have been _ proud _of such an accomplishment. You watch his hand reach down to your face, before roughly pinching your cheek.

“Is that why you pester me _ constantly, _ Alastor?” Your tone was dead panned. He had the audacity to give you an impish grin and shrug, turning on his heel. His insufferable humming proceeded, carried down the hall until it faded. The ghastly sound echoed in your mind. It left you uncomfortable and even _ more _confused than you had been before.

Your attention was pulled to a clearing of a feminine throat. 

“Hello~” Charlie sang softly, suddenly eyeing the feline demon that was _ still _sleeping in front of the fireplace, even after what had just occurred. She was holding bandages, and before you could say that Alastor had already done it, she discovered it for herself, eyes falling to your abdomen in a dumbfounded expression. 

Approaching you, she laid down the bandages on the armrest, eyeing your abdomen. _ The fresh bandaging. _

“Did you open your wound?” She asked anxiously, picking up the old bandages that were now covered in blood. You nod.

“You need to be careful!” You wince at the whisper-shout, a frown pulling at your lips from the fact that this was the _ second _ time you were being scolded like _ a child. _You knew there wasn’t any bad intentions from Charlie, but Alastor? You could bet on it. “Who did it? Alastor?” The fact that she guessed it so quickly made you wonder if she had picked up on how much he had been pestering you as well. 

“Yeah, he yanked my hair really hard. I got up and pushed him away.” Your nose scrunched up at the foul memory.

“I’ll have a word with him later.” She was fed up with his constant berating of her precious employee. You thank her.

“He also uhhh, patched me back up…” You trailed off. Charlie seemed confused but didn’t question it further, beginning to understand Alastor’s enigmatic nature. He was an asshole underhandedly, but then he did something to literally or figuratively patch up his damage.

“Too tight. He patched me up too tight. Can you make it… less tight?” Your face screwed up in uncertainty of whether or not that was the best way to describe it. She seems surprised, but agrees. Her hands are gentle but _ cold, _ nevertheless far more welcoming than his own were. Charlie was far higher on the totem pole than Alastor was in regards to how much you respected them and _ trusted _them. He was an insufferable, confusing Radio Demon.

Feeling like you could breathe once she was finished, you let out a sigh of relief. Charlie pat your head gently. You frown. She simply smiled. “You should get some rest,” she stated, pulling herself up from her seated position and exiting the lobby, old bandages and items in hand. Despite her mother henning you, you were appreciative.

Curling into yourself, you drifted off into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the crackling of the fireplace aiding in the aimless reverie of your mind.


	20. You’re A Mean One, Mister Grinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> credit: HandMonsters, NotBrooke

There were no dreams to be had in a place such as this.

The ones you had were often forgotten before the brink of consciousness had begun to filter through your mind; the ones that remained behind were the ones you _ wished _ you could forget. The beginnings of daybreak had begun to filter through the stained glass windows, shrouding the lobby in a deep red hue, the warmth presented from the fireplace filling the entirety of the area with a comfortable warmth that originally would not have been found beyond the walls of said Hotel. A soft, gentle feeling dusted across your forehead, similar to a stray strand of hair that had been swept up by an overhanging ceiling fan; but it was more controlled, _ precise. _

_ As if someone were brushing it out of your face. _

The motion was welcome, your brain not truly conscious or comprehensive to your surroundings. You were too comfortable, adorned in the warmth of the blankets that shrouded your frame to be even _ remotely _ aware of what was actually happening. When you subconsciously leaned into the touch with a contented sigh, it recoiled for the longest of moments, and just when you were about to drift back into a deeper sleep, the motions, hesitantly, started up again. By the time they retreated once again, this time for good, you had already succumbed to the fatigue that plagued your body, drifting further and further still into the gentle lull of sleep. 

You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed from that point, too swept up in your drowse to try to figure out if what you had felt had been a fever dream or a reality. You shoot up, a sharp stab of pain blossoming from your abdomen at the very sheer, sudden intensity of your movements. What surprised you more was the fact it had a far more dull sensation than the previous day; as if you had been asleep for a lot _ longer _than you had originally been. You take a deep inhale and release it with a tired smile, coming to the realization that it didn’t hurt to breathe. 

“Feeling better?” The gruff voice of Husk made you turn your head in surprise, eyebrows knitting at the fact that he showed _ concern_, no matter how guttural and uncaring his tone actually made it out to be. He took a slow swig of his alcohol, and you immediately notice the familiarity of it being the stuff you had the _ pleasure _of drinking that one time; the kind used to wash away the cruel memories that should’ve been long forgotten to the winds of the past. A small grimace makes it way onto your face, but your features soften once you manage to respond:

“A bit.”

The moment he puts the bottle down to offer you a response, it goes unsaid at the sound of clacking shoes; completely dominating the rest of the quaint ambience with _ his _ own. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was; _ you just knew. _ The moment you turned your attention to confirm your suspicions, you realized how _ jovial _ he seemed, a skip in his step, a hum on his lips; the static was _ lighter. _

“Are you up?” He flashed you one of his more _ charming _smiles, as if he truly had something planned. 

You rolled your eyes visibly, his own expression crinkling giddily. 

“You’re more smiley than usual,” you comment lightly, considering the fact that he never _ didn’t _smile. You release a yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes trained on him after bringing your arm down. 

He shrugged, “Is it not a good day to smile?” He leans down, hands originally behind his back untangling from each other as he points at you, “perhaps _ you _should do it more.” His smile becomes closed-lipped, seldom. He leaned back, rocking on the balls of his heels like a kid in a candy store. You narrow your eyes suspiciously, a silence filling the lobby uncomfortably. “Are you feeling better, my dear?” He breaks the tranquility with the question.

Shaking your head, you release a sigh and push yourself up, ignoring his question and heading to the kitchen. You were absolutely _ starving. _ The sound of his shoes behind you and the feeling of a looming presence above you told you that he wasn’t going to let you out of his sights _ that _easily. You continue to ignore him.

“_You should really learn some manners,” _ Alastor stated idly, watching as you walked over to the counter and grabbed a bread roll. He didn’t do well being ignored by those who he _ liked. _

“You already said that.” You shove the piece of bread into your mouth, exchanging looks. His was disapproving and _ motherly, _while yours was tired and unamused. Before you can react, he ripped the bread away from you, shaking his finger.

“You really think bread is going to help you heal faster, darling?” He quipped. You shrug. You watch as his fingers suddenly conjure a steaming bowl of _ something from somewhere. _ Your stomach growled the moment the scent entered your nose; while you didn’t let him know you liked his food, _ you did. _

“How did you do that?” You question in awe, a dumbfounded expression shrouding your features. 

He laughed in a string of ‘ha’s’, noticing how astonished you were by one of the most menial tasks he’d performed thus far. Wiggling his claws at you in a teasing manner, you narrow your eyes at the bowl. “Are you really impressed by something like that? Ha!” His laugh envelops the kitchen in an annoying, posh tone. “Oh, dear employee… you’re _ such _a charm!” An audience laugh track played in the background, but you manage to tune it out, practically darting towards the food, starved of such things.

You were stopped by his hand encircling both of your wrists, claws sinking into your skin tightly. When you try to tug away, his grip tightens. “Ah, ah, ah.” He waggled a claw at you despite still holding your wrists. _ He sure likes making things tight. _ You frown, forgetting the bowl for a minute and instead focusing on his hands and how they were growing unyielding. “You don’t mind my food now, but last evening was a different story.” He leans against the counter like a snooty brat, and you just mutter incomprehensibly under your breath. His grin extends from ear to ear, before the sweet, life-saving voice of Charlie was heard from somewhere that wasn’t _ here. _

You nearly release a sigh, entirely _ too _thankful for the coincidental interruption. Alastor narrowed his eyes.

You feel his grip tighten causing you to raise your eyebrows at him, attempting to hold back a wince when it nearly becomes bone crushing. You fail horribly, fear starting to dance up your spine because you know if he wanted to, he absolutely _ would _break your wrists and leave you to writhe in pain all on your lonesome. At last, he lets go, smoothing out his outfit as if he were getting ready to meet with Lucifer himself. 

Sorely, you rub your wrists, watching as he capriciously hummed cheerfully, walking out of the kitchen to find Charlie.

Leaning against the counter, you stare at the spot he was once in, still feeling the ghost of his hand digging into you now throbbing wrists. After a moment, you glance over to the bowl that was still steaming, the scent luring you closer and closer still. You peer over the rim of it. Oatmeal. _ It was oatmeal. _ Stomach growling, your last two brain cells found over whether to trust the meal simply because the _ last _one was okay, or to just ignore it and grab another piece of bread. You glance to the loaf of bread, and then back to the bowl.

You give into your desires, taking the spoon and leading it to your lips. _ It was good. _ Nevertheless, the longer you remained in the silence, the more the dread began to creep hauntingly up your spine at the realization that Alastor would not be _ too _ thrilled about you ‘telling on him’. The longer you think about the reasonings behind it, the less you began to care. _ He deserved it. _ You just wanted him to leave you _ alone. _

Coming back to reality, you note the scraping of the spoon against the bottom of the bowl. With a sigh, you manage to clean it and place it back on the counter. It didn’t belong to the Hotel, so you didn’t put it with the rest of the Hotel. In your mindless silence, you pulled up the bottom of your shirt to peer down at the bandages and gauze, eyebrows furrowed when you gently pull it just far enough to see how the healing process was going. It was further along than you would have expected; but you guessed that it had something to do with Charlie’s bandages. Perhaps she had gotten ahold of bandages that had some sort of healing property.

You knew Alastor sure didn’t. No, he wanted you to suffer as much as possible, in your humble opinion. Though, it wasn’t painful suffering despite how he nearly broke your wrists, no doubt bruising later on. No, it was dangerously _ playful;. _ An annoyance, a pest. _ He called you his favorite. _

The sound of swinging doors pull you out of your painful reverie, half expecting it to be Alastor himself already returning, but you were immediately relieved to find that it was _ not. _Instead, it was the ever elusive Vaggie, carrying groceries.

“Hey,” she greeted you half-assedly, her eye trailing down to your stomach just as you lowered your shirt back down. She returns to her task, putting away a carton of milk and a few other necessities. Just as you were about to offer help, she paused, sparing a small sigh and facing you in slight concern. It was sweet, you’d hardly even spoken to her and yet here she was. “I heard what happened.” She stated, continuing on, crouching down to place cheese and a container of eggs in their proper places. You remain quiet.

“Are you okay?” Her tone is worrisome, showing more concern than you had ever seen her able to possess. You nod lightly, taking notice of how she didn’t really know _ how _to talk to you about it. 

“Getting there,” you felt like a broken record, saying the same response over and over again. “I’m just glad Charlie was there when it happened…” you murmur. It’s her turn to remain quiet, continuing to pull the groceries out and put them in their respective places. Half of you wanted to quietly excuse yourself, while the other half of you had the urge to remain where you were and attempt to warm up to Vaggie. You didn’t know much about her.

“You should be careful,” she finally breaks the silence.

You rub your arm as a gust of cold air blew through the window. “Well, I definitely won’t be asking Angel to teach-”

“No, I meant with Alastor.” She cuts you off.

You stiffen at _ his _ name, your hopes of a peaceful conversation fleeing from you. “He’s been pestering me _ constantly,” _you draw a sigh. Your curiosity spiked the moment you thought back on the time when she had told you the story of his origins here in Hell.

“I know.”

“You know?”

She hummed in confirmation. “I don’t trust him.”

_ Welcome to the team. _

“It’s gotten really bad after he patched me up.”

“He _ helped _you?” Her eye was wide, eyebrows raised.

“Twice,” you respond with a frown, a knowing expression crossing your face, “and now he won’t leave me alone.” As if what you just said had struck her with an epiphany, a look of horror on her face, she dropped the bags and stood in front of you, putting your hands on your shoulders.

“He’s a _ deal maker. _ He doesn’t _ help _others unless he’s getting something out of it.” 

The concern on her face evidence enough that she was just as annoyed with his presence as you were.

“I _ know, _Vaggie. He’s the last person I’d trust with anything.”

She seemed to relax at that, albeit slightly. At least he wasn’t going after you because you were easy prey; no, you could hold your own mentally, but perhaps not physically. Vaggie doubted _ many _could go against him physically.

“What else has he done?”

“Let’s see….” you think back on the last two days. “He stole my blanket, pulled my hair, made me soup _ and _ oatmeal, hit my knee with his microphone, appeared out of _ nowehre _ during the training session and _ laughed _ when I failed, he nearly broke my wrists just now when I was trying to get some food.” Vaggie’s mouth was parted slightly. “He called me his _ favorite.” _

“His favorite.” She echoed, blinking owlishly at you. She didn’t know what to say. Whatever he was doing to you didn’t sound _ good, _ but nothing in regards to Alastor ever did. She shook her head, “you _ can’t _ trust him.” She repeated. “Don’t believe what he tells you. Charlie cares a lot about you, and she would be _ devastated _ if anything happened.” The moth demon frowned. “I… know you barely know me, but if you need anything, if you need to get _ away _from him, just let me know.” She seemed awkward saying it.

_ But she would do anything for Charlie. _

You were surprised, but managed to nod. “Thanks.” 

Letting you go, she returned to her task at hand. Taking that as your cue to leave, you exited the kitchen with a soft huff. Strolling over to the couch, you fell onto it with a groan, staring up at the ceiling as you sprawled across it. 

“You want somethin’?” Husk’s voice broke your silence, and you leant your head back over the armrest to peer at him across the room, upside down. He was sipping on the same alcohol as he had been previously-- whether or not it was the exact same bottle or a new one, you weren’t sure. You made a confused face. “A _ drink_, kid, you want a drink?” 

“I want peace and _ quiet.” _You groan, looking over at the television.

“Yeah, I could use some of that too.” He laughed gruffly.

You hummed, watching as different colors flashed across the screen, said device just loud enough for you to just make out what was being said. Something about another territorial takeover, but you weren’t able to tune it out in enough time when your thoughts invaded your mind. If Alastor wouldn’t leave you alone by words alone, you would have to show him how he made you feel. The annoyance and attention that he demanded just by being near you. With a loud sigh, you reached over and grabbed the piece of paper from the day before.

Before you could even go over the details, something grabbed it out of your grasp before you could even contemplate what had even happened.

_ “Hey!” _

“Whatever could _ this _ be?” You supposed it could have only been a matter of time. You were _ so _over this.

Rolling over and standing up, albeit carefully, you turned around to stare at the nuisance that had appeared out of thin air. He was reading the note, muttering something under his breath. You didn’t care. “Give it back!” The further you reached, the higher he lifted the note until you could reach no more. When he was done reading, you backed down almost _ immediately. _

He stood a bit _ too _ close to you, leering down at you with a grin full of exceedingly sharp teeth. He held a silent air of intimidation, static dancing acros your skin _ just barely. _

So Charlie had spoken to him, good to know.

“Can I _ please _have it back?” 

That seemed to do the trick, the static and uncomfortable feeling in the room vanished in an instant as he brought his hand to your head and ruffled you hair like a _ child. _ He hummed, handing the note back over to you as if it were not something he had stolen from you, but instead awarding you for _ good manners. _You grabbed the note out of his hand the moment it came into reach, stuffing it into your pocket.

“IMP services?” He stated the moment you began to turn around. You stiffened. 

Alastor turned away with a smile, his hair obscuring whatever expression you would have been able to make out _ if _you had been looking at him, muttering something about an ‘insufferable little chickling’ and something akin to a ‘stolas’. That was the second time you heard that word fall from his lips, but you ignored it, attempting to tune him out. Continuing to the couch again, you laid across it lazily, turning your attention to the television again. At the sound of the sofa settling, he spun around again, meeting your gaze once more.

“Whatever would you need such _ cretins _ for?” His tone was lighthearted and cheery, delving off to a more sinister and manipulative tone. A tone you knew not to trust. “Somebody you’re not happy with?” He blinked expectantly in your direction. Ignoring seemed to work wonders, so you did just that. He disappeared behind the couch; leaving you to just _ wait for it. _ The moment you felt the ghosting of claws on your head, you snapped your attention to the top of the couch. 

_ But he wasn’t there. _

Nothing unnerved you more than Alastor appearing and disappearing at will. 

“I do believe you’ve been watching _ too _ much of the picture show.” 

You jumped, looking in front of you to see him peering down. 

“What do you mean?” You humored him a response, briefly. It wasn’t like you could do much other than laze around for the past day and a half, your injuries forbidding such exertion. But now you were confident enough they wouldn’t reopen if you bent down to pick something up. _ Still. _You had to be careful.

“It can hold many dangers, you know! So many affairs to get involved in, all because of some box…” He walked over to said box and clicked it off, but before you could grab the remote behind you to turn it back on, it _ disappeared. _ Exasperated, you spun back around, about to ask why he even _ cares _ when you silence yourself at the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. With a single stride, he was in front of you again, leaning down painfully into your face, “it could taint youuu.” His voice was higher pitched in a similar way you would speak to your _ pet dog. _

“What are you, the _ Television _ Demon now?”

He cocked his head, a disapproving hum filling the immediate area. He brought his hand to your head and tapped his claws along it playfully. “Television Demon?” His voice held an inquisitive lilt, raising a brow before releasing a chuckle; thinly veiled by his annoyance. “You’re such a character! Always needing to make those funny little comebacks of yours… oh, you’re so innovative.” Condescending bastard. His claws threatened to grab at your cheeks again, and if they had connected it would have been in an oddly affectionate display, but the moment you felt the ghost of it, you flinched back.

He looked like he wanted to peer into your thoughts, your mind a lexicon he wished to _ decipher. _

“Maybe she wants to use IMP services to take _ you _ out.” Husk’s gruff voice suddenly piped up, and you let your head fall back against the armrest to look at him upside down sillily. You flashed him a grin, trying to hold on your laughter, instead releasing a heavy breath of amusement before looking back up to Alastor. You narrowed your eyes _ playfully;_ this was your ticket to annoying _ him. _You wanted to show him just how you truly felt. That absolute bastard. 

Before you could begin to play on from Husk’s words, the sound of light taps caught your attention. “Alastor! There you are!” An equally energetic voice spoke up, causing you to sit up. Niffty. The sudden thought of the little cleaner made your chest tighten. You had _ forgotten _her. Guilt shrouded your expression, your playful mood simmering out of existence. Suddenly realizing you were there, she hopped up and down excitedly, peering up at you with her one, large eye. “Oh man! I heard what happened! Are you okay? Take all the time you need, I can do everything!-“ She rambled. 

“I’m okay.” You offered a light smile. In _ some _ ways, Niffty reminded you of a younger sister; and that hit you harder than you would have liked to admit. Her grin extended before looking back up to Alastor. 

“Come with me, please! I believe there’s something you’d like to see!” 

Oh, you could hear the angels themselves singing hallelujah. 

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Alastor stated to no one in particular.

_ Please don’t. _

The moment he was out of the room, you and Husk let out a sigh of relief simultaneously. Your breath wavered out into laughter.

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor,” you lightly broke the silence; looking back over to your favorite drunk. He put down the liquor bottle that he had been nursing, tossing you a shrug of his shoulders. He leaned under the counter, his wings the only part that was visible for a moment before he popped back up, slamming a remote down. He pressed the button and, like magic, the television turned back on. 

“_I don’t.” _ He muttered. “When you see an opportunity like that, kid, _ take _ it.” 

_ Oh, you would. _

Standing up, albeit gingerly because you didn’t forget your wound, you stretched. “I’m getting some fresh air.” He didn’t respond, apparently not caring what the hell you did. 

The moment you opened the door, you see Charlie and Vaggie sitting on the steps, chatting idly and holding hands. You couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander to how cute they were; and how that even in Hell, love could thrive. Needless to say, plans ruined, you shut the door quietly to not disturb them. The moment you sat down at the counter to the bar, Husk raised his exaggerated eyebrows at you. 

“That was quick.” He commented, half-assed, taking a swig. 

“Charlie and Vaggie are out there.” 

“So?”

“So… I can’t just _ disturb _ them. They were having a _ moment.” _You whispered the last part, swinging your legs playfully against the stool.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He gagged as if your sweetness was _ disgusting. _

“Why do you drink so much?” You question bluntly, curiosity suddenly no bounds, even if it did come across as a bit _ rude. _He didn’t seem to give a shit, offering you a side-glance and another shrug of his shoulders before placing the booze down. 

“To forget the fact that I’m in Hell.” 

_ Made sense. _

“I wish I could forget a lot of things. Alastor, for one.” There wasn’t much you could _ remember _ , though. Husk nodded absentmindedly. You weren’t even sure he _ heard _you or comprehended what you had said. With a heavy sigh, you let your head fall into your arms, getting lost in your thoughts as you listened to the audio of the television in the background. Gunshots, screams, a happy news channel host chatting away about things that were happening across the nine circles of Hell. 

Your peace was butchered the moment Husk groaned out a ‘fuck do you want now’, your shoulders slumping before you even brought your head up to see who it was that was looming behind you. “Ah, I apologize for ruining your time with our darling employee here, but _ we-“ _ He places an arm on your shoulder causing you to jolt up and swat his hand away. “-have some business to attend to. Niffty has found something _ quite _interesting indeed.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry as he practically yanked you away from the bar before you could protest.

Stumbling after him, you frowned in grumpiness over the fact that he ruined your peace and quiet. In a moment of evil ingenious, you came to the conclusion to go with your earlier thoughts and _ annoy him back _ . As Husk had said— _ if the opportunity presents itself. _ So you waited, letting him drag you around like a doll, offering him what he wanted to hear, all the while a sort of inner smugness began to pool in your gut. At one time, a smile found its way upon your lips; thinking of all the ways you could show him how _ annoying _he actually was. 

He commended you at the smile. 

His pace increased and, soon enough, you found yourself beginning to trail behind him. No less, you managed to increase each step by moving _ faster _, and just when he picked up his foot, you slid your own under it and tripped him up. Instantly, you let out an explanation, even as he stumbled for a moment, clarifying that it was a ‘mistake’. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he managed to keep his cool and brush it off. 

You felt a surge of pride in your chest, but you managed to bite your lip to mask the smug smile that do desperately wanted to appear on your mouth. Walking in front of him, since he now refused to, you followed his directions to the room. 

“Oh! Just on time! I was worried you two wouldn’t come!” Niffty immediately greeted you as you stepped through the door. Your mood immediately increased tenfold at her exuberant personality. The room you had entered looked perfectly _ normal. _Except for the chipping of some paint and the peeling of wallpaper that had been the cause of a lack of maintenance to the room. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing really! I’m actually not too sure why he brought you here! You’re not really needed-“ she cut herself off with a gasp, “-wow that was rude I am so sorry!” You watched her dart around, a blur that you couldn’t make the details of until she stopped. Even then, it didn't last for long. She stared up at the wall, bringing a hand to her chin. “Do you know how to get wallpaper to stay on the walls?” 

“Uh… no?” There was a questioning lilt in your voice, before you stepped through the door and finally walked into the center of the room. 

“Well, that’s okay! We can just tear it down and repaint it!” She replied giddily. You felt envy over how positive she remained even when faced with such a grueling task for someone of her stature. She was already beginning to peel off the wallpaper that she could reach, and slowly, you followed suit. You were also annoyed over the fact that Alastor had brought you here just to _ peel off wallpaper. _

And said asshole was just _ observing _while you did so. 

With the task underway, the inner workings of your mind began chipping away at the seams over how you could _ feel _ his eyes on the back of your head. Pulling away the wallpaper, you gave a loud ‘hm’, looking at a plain wall that had nothing wrong with it _ whatsoever _. “Alastor, can you come check this out?” Your tone was innocent enough, despite the small smile twitching at the corners of your lips. You held it in, hiding it under a sigh, even as he joined you at your side. 

He leaned down to your height, scanning the wall, and before he could state that could couldn’t see anything _ wrong, _ you reached over, grabbing his hair and yanking it down, _ just like he had. _ Before he could tear you apart, you stepped back, just to see his head crack towards you with a sickening sound and quite literally _ slam _ into the wall, creating a hole. You bring a fist up to your mouth, biting on it to stop yourself from losing it right then and there. 

_ Revenge at its finest. _

He looked _ dazed. _ Whether it was from the initial impact or the fact that you had _ touched him; _ you didn’t have time to contemplate because, once you were certain you could control yourself from bursting out in laughter because _ Lucifer help you, he was such a jerk and deserved it, _you extended your arms from your side, gasping dramatically.

“Look at what you did!” You exclaimed, as if _ he _were the child who had just colored all over the walls.

An equal, more genuine ‘ohh man’ resounded from behind you, the urge to look at Niffty strong, but your will to _ survive _ this so much stronger. He looked at the new hole in the wall, and then at you, face scrunching up into a malice-filled smile, narrowing his eyes as if he _ knew _ you were being a little _ shit. _ You noticed him flex his claws at his side as he straightened himself out, suppressing his aggression. Peering down at you with a leer, he fluttered his eyelashes at you passive-aggressively. 

“My mistake, _ you’ll just have to patch it up.” _ He purred, and you look down at Niffty. She looked confused and horrified at the same time and you felt _ bad _for bringing her into this mess. If Alastor wasn’t so persistent on pestering you, this would have never happened. You don’t respond verbally, instead turning back around and continuing to pull down the wallpaper. 

It didn’t take too long for you to finish the task of such a measly thing, as the room was smaller compared to the rest; but as you found yourself looking at the hole in the wall again, you released a huff. “Niffty?” You leaned a hand on your hip. It didn’t take long for the little lady to be bouncing at your side, her previous emotions long forgotten. Al_ ass _tor still remained of course, as if he would ever truly leave you alone. 

You would never get the pleasure.

“I don’t think we have anymore cement to fix this. You know, after he _ last hole _he blew through the building, it’s a surprise it’s still standing.” The moment you felt static dancing across your skin, you grinned smugly to yourself. 

“Oh- well, we could ask Charlie if we can get some more!” She beamed up at you and you gently smiled down at her. Despite the game you were playing, you managed to break the facade of pride to offer her a genuine smile. “Tomorrow, though, yeah! You should still rest, you know! I can do this!” Niffty chirped happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Thanks, Niffty.” 

Taking that as your cue to leave, you completely ignored Alastor as you passed him, a random hum on your lips as you disappeared back down the hallway to the lobby. To your surprise and utter _ relief, _ Alastor didn’t follow you down. Instead, you were allowed _ some _peace as you lounged on the couch. 

By the time the evening rolled around, the red light streaming in at a darker shade, you found yourself seated at the familiar table. You, against your better nature, made sure to sit right _ next _ to Alastor. Vaggie was surprised but didn’t comment, you yourself only offering a _look_ that basically said _ ‘I got this’_. Charlie and her exchanged a concerned glance before subtly digging into the steak that had been presented to everyone. It was really good; as was _ all _ of his food, you wouldn’t comment on _ that _, no, as you were certain he would most likely poison your next meal. No, when you did take your opportunity, it was when there was small talk around the table. 

You leaned closer to him, and when he noticed, you took your shot. “Do you wear eyeshadow? It doesn’t look that good on you. You should probably learn from Angel how to do it properly.” Your voice was low to not attract attention. He managed to keep his cool, but you watched as he sawed his cut of meat a bit more aggressively. Of course, he couldn’t be without his smile, so he attempted to laugh it off.

“Oh! I didn’t know you stared at my face so much to make such an assumption!” 

You narrowed your eyes, shrugging your shoulders and turning to your meal again, beginning to chat it up with Charlie, Vaggie, and the rest of the residents. Needless to say, it was going _ smoothly,_ not to mention your mood was up because you were having a _ blast. _ Angel just happened to be sitting next to you, who you didn’t necessarily _ ignore, _ but it was definitely _ awkward. _

The moment the talk got loud enough again, you leaned back over into Alastor and made a smart-ass decision: “You say you have _ manners?” _ You grin, getting a kick out of this. “_Wow, _even Fat Nuggets eats better than you do.” Of course, it was something that you pulled out of your ass.

But boy did it work _ wonders. _

You watched as he tightened his grip on his knife, completely disfiguring the utensil from his strength alone. He seemed to get _ even more _ agitated once he noticed that he broke it, sighing sharply. Peering at you out of the corner of his eye, he offered you a look of _ warning._ “_Are you finished?” _he asked finally. 

“Finished with what? I’m still eating!” You reply with an air of innocence as if you had no _ idea _what he was on about. 

“_Then shut your mouth.” _He leaned into you, gritting his teeth into a grin before straightening himself out and sending you one last look over his shoulder, only to resume being the happiest piece of shit in the world. But you weren’t done.

You examined your meal, poking idly at it. You start up again almost awkwardly but _ giddy _to throw another insult at him. “Hey Al—“ you see his grin twist up aggressively.

“Yes~?” He replied airily as if he hadn’t demolished a _ metal _knife out of anger. 

You nearly snort, just barely holding back your laughter. “You have something right… there.” You open your mouth to scratch at your teeth, attempting to get it across to him that he had something stuck between them. But he didn’t. You grinned up at him with the most _ bratty _smile you could manage. “Oh wait, nevermind, it’s just your piss-colored teeth.” 

You watched as his fist clenched, visibly _ shaking. _ You almost felt _ disappointed _ by his lack of reaction until he suddenly turned to look down at you with a bone-crunching sound. His smile curved to his eyes, said eyes hollow and _ glowing_, his dangerous claws flexing in anticipation as his lust for brutal anarchy skyrocketed along with his blood pressure. 

_ “W h a t.” _

His voice was distorted along with his ambience, _ calm_. The residents began to notice the tension in the room. You tossed them a wary smile, just as Alastor snapped out of it, glowering in silence. Needless to say, you backed down immediately, finishing your meal in silence before eventually being excused from the table along with the others. 

You find yourself back in your room, eager to just _ sleep _ in your own bed. The couch was comfortable, you supposed, but it was a _ couch_, and nothing would ever be able to compare to your bed. You fall into the bed with a happy sigh, even as your weight makes you bounce off of it a few times. You didn’t want to move. Unfortunately, you were _ forced _to at a knock on the door. With a groan, you lifted yourself off and padded over to the mahogany entrance, pulling it open to see just who exactly wanted to speak with you. 

The moment you saw _ his _ towering frame in the doorway, you moved to slam it in his face. After having this happen to him _ three _ times, you stared in horror as he slammed his hand against the door, nearly unhinging it right then and there. Before you could yell at him, a hand darted to your neck and encircled it. _ Tightly. _He let himself into the room with a single stride, your own hands immediately and instinctively going to your own neck to try to pry his hands off of you.

It wasn’t to the point of choking, but you were well to find out it was on the verge of it. Your fight or flight instincts began to kick into overdrive. The moment he’s fully in the room, he began to go off on a tangent.

“You’ve been _ awfully _obnoxious today, you know.” 

Each step he took made each reminiscent sentence more _ aggressive. _

“Why are you acting this way?” Another step.

“**_What is it? _ **You’ve been acting so strange—” Another. 

The moment you felt a wall against your back, you stiffened. He towered over you, his expression _ furious; _ a display nothing short of terrifying. You could _ hear _your heartbeat, fear drowning out whatever confidence you had previously. 

“_Because you do the same thing to me!” _You gasp out, drawing in what precious breath you can.

“Because you _ let me,” _ he spat venomously, regaining an egotistical expression, rolling his neck as he tightened his grip on you. “You let me have all the fun I want; you’re so passive, _ so reclusive… _ toughen up, won’t you?” His reasoning was an excuse to bully you further. His anger is _ flaring _ now. He closed his eyes for the moment, and the moment he reopened them, his smile flatlined as he lost _ himself. _

There were a thousand things that you could have said that would have terrified you, but nothing terrified you more in that split _ moment _ then when he stopped _ smiling. _ You let out a whine, trying desperately to get him _ off _of you. 

“But you want to know the real reason… _ don’t you?” _ He leaned in, his face _ so _ close to your own that you could nearly _ taste _ his breath. Another hand was brought up to your face, running along the side of your face as if you were a fine porcelain doll. “_You’re so much fun,_” he whispered, his eyes lidded as if it were a flirtatious endeavor when it most certainly _ was not. _His claws dipped deeper into your skin, a whimper fluttering from you as you felt the indentations let up and release rivulets of blood. 

Upon noticing it, he dipped his head under your chin, his expression _ just out of view_, as you struggled against his grip. The vibrations of his chest against you told you he was _ speaking, _ but with the blood roaring in your ears and your heart hammering in your rib cage _ painfully, _ you could only hear him as if he was _ muffled. _As if you were underwater.

“...a taste for humans.” 

And that’s all you needed to hear for you to realize that he had been a _ fucking cannibal. _ No wonder he knew so much about the human body. _ It all made sense. _ The best part of it all, was the fact that you still looked relatively _ human _ compared to other demons. His breath fanned over your shoulder, strings of drool dribbling down as if he were ready right then and there to take a bite out of you. He was _ thriving _off of your fear. 

Slowly, he pulled his head back to look down at you, releasing your neck just enough for you to get a breath lest you pass out. You made pathetic noises, cringing as he brought his face closer to yours once again. In a last attempt to save yourself, you looked down at his teeth. 

“M-my, what… what large teeth you have.” _ You were so fucking stupid. _You strained, stating the first thing that came to your mind. He paused, processing what you just said before a dark chuckle escaped him. His eyes were still lidded.

“Keep it up and I won’t be _ so forgiving.” _

Letting up your assault, he let you go and _ disappeared_. 

You sank down against the wall, gulping in the air desperately, dumbfounded and _ terrified _at what had just occurred. And then it sunk in. 

_ You showed him. _

You released a nervous laugh, leaning your head against the wall with a thud, bringing your hand gingerly to your neck. 

_ You won. _


	21. Insert Clever Title Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come join our family [here!](https://discord.gg/nG4XzZr)
> 
> PLEASE NOTE YOU MUST BE 18+ TO ENTER AND WILL BE ASKED TO PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR AGE

You were _ certain _ that the bandages had some sort of healing property, considering the fact that you could sit up without a single ounce of pain. That, or there was an increased healing rate; you supposed both were plausible explanations. At times it was easy to forget where you _ were, _ to come to terms with the fact that you were, in fact, _ dead. _Death had been a notion on your mind ever since you learned exactly what it was: the absence of life that plagued every breathing, living thing. Nothing escaped its clutches.

A lurking thought that remained at the back of your mind simply because you never were put into a situation that it had become a worry. You had always been aware that there would come a day that the universe would close the book on the last page, to have your memories live on through the people you made an impression on. If you were lucky, you could live on through paperback books or through the educational system. Not many had such a pleasure; who you were something long forgotten, a shell of someone you once were. For you, your story began _ after _ your untimely demise; the first hundred pages of the book ripped out and sent to flutter through the winds of lost time. 

You rubbed your eyes with your fist, ridding yourself of your stupor; a small yawn escaping your lips. Seamlessly, your eyes moved to the corner of the room that was shrouded in a shadow cast upon it from an array of different items found around it. Your mind caught up with the present and suddenly came to the realization of _ why _ you were staring at said corner. You slid your hand down your face, hovering over your neck gingerly. Memories that you wished you could forget afflicted from the shrouds of your consciousness; stemming from nothing and everything all at once. 

Trailing your fingertips across your neck, you pulled away with a wince at the sudden pain. You paused, uncertain if you actually wanted to witness the damage that had been caused to you in the bout of aggression you had been victim to. Soothing your qualms and swallowing the thickness at the back of your throat, you peeled the covers off of you and stepped onto the floor. Nervousness ran up your spine, horrid feelings of desperation in hopes that he hadn’t done _ too much _harm to your poor neck. From the tenderness that sparked when you touched it, you expected the worst. 

Opening the door to the bathroom, said door squeaking slightly on its hinges, you flicked the light on and braced yourself. When you leaned over the sink to peer into the mirror, the sight that greeted you wasn’t horrid; and you released a soft sigh of relief before moving your hair out of the way. There, upon the indentations against your skin, were dark blue and black bruises adorning the sides, silhouetting where he had suppressed your desperation to breathe. Your heart skipped a beat upon the awareness that it had not been a dream, slowly sinking low in your chest as dread filled the void: _ you would have to face him eventually. _

Your mouth went dry, leaning in to further inspect the wounds of your consequences. Where he had pressed his claws into you was crusted, dry blood, flaking off when you ran a finger over them. He _ punctured _your skin; something you had not felt in the moment when the adrenaline had taken over your mind; flight and fight responses going haywire as you had been deprived of air. Instinctively, you take a deep breath, relieving yourself of the breath you had forgotten to take while coming to terms with your injuries. 

Your fear, beginning to ebb away into annoyance and pure, unadulterated, pissed-off energy, you found yourself desiring to rid yourself of his _ filthy _ touches. Opening the glass door to the shower, you turned it to the right temperature and stripped. For the first time in _ days, _ you finally relieved yourself of your bandages, taking a look at your exposed stomach. You ran your fingers across the healing wounds, finding relief in the fact that you didn’t experience pain; of course, until you pressed down or did some idiotic movement to stretch your stomach. _ Then _ it hurt. 

You were confident enough that you didn’t need the bandages; but if somehow the wounds reopened from exertion, you would get more. Stepping into the shower, you remained still for the longest time; disassociating with yourself as you stared at the way the water ran warmly down your head, neck, back, arms, and finally your fingers; getting lost in a daydream of the turmoil of emotions and thoughts that plagued the silence of the space you inhabited. 

They began at how you seethed off of the fact that he thought he had the _ audacity _ to touch you like that. You supposed only a select few were in their right of mind to be in a place such as this; though, you hadn’t exactly been the bigger person, had you? His antics had been annoying, and you had dropped to his level, and for that, he had exposed you to a force that had been unimaginable. The terror you had released in the moment that you had been certain you would perish; the way his antlers had curled from the stems that just barely were present normally. How his smile had grown, strained against his face unnaturally and inhumane. Nothing short of _ terrifying. _

_ And when he stopped smiling. _An uncomfortable chill ran up your spine.

You wanted to ignore him not out of spite, but because he _ scared _ you. You wanted to forget his existence, wanted to forget the stinging pain around your neck, wanted to forget how he _ lost himself _ in his anger over trivial things that he had done to you in a similar way more times than you could count. It wasn’t _ fair. _ When it came to him, nothing ever was. You clench your fist, bringing your hand to your head to wash your hair. Your thoughts wavered over to how you couldn’t remember _ anything _ other than a select puzzle pieces that, to your knowledge, could be things that weren’t every _ connected. _You were the detective to your own life.

You wanted to get away from Alastor and his enigmatic, psychopathic self. Several thoughts, _ several plots _ ran through your head; yesterday had been a turning point, the bottom of the iceberg slowly surfacing all its secluded glory. He _ proved _ himself to be dangerous; he proved himself to be unhinged. _ How far was this all going to go? _No less, you couldn’t live in fear; the smallest semblance of comfort you had being tossed away in accompany of yesterday’s events. 

Having something so trivial had set him off to _ that _ degree confused you deeply. _ Why did he care so much? Was he truly this sensitive? _ If so, why did he do it to _ you? _ You were not some _ game _ he could try to win; you refused to play it, and yet, despite trying your hardest, you were overthrown _ constantly _ in order for his entertainment. He had an incredible array of powers; the advantage he held over the Hotel; _ he _ frightened you. If he had truly desired, he could have broken your neck, a simple task for one such as him, if not a bit mundane. Simple, thoughtless actions. He could have made it look like an accident, or a _ suicide. _

Down in the lobby, Charlie found herself to be _ distressed; _ fretting over the events that had occurred over dinner the previous night. She carried a box of old antiques and baubles to a shelf to be held for later sorting; indirectly alluding to the problem being _ Alastor, _ as he had been the one that had been picking on her employee and dear friend, he had been the one that was so… _ clingy. _She was nervous; a sensitive topic, she believed. But it needed to be laid to rest; she needed to let sleeping dogs lie. 

“Dinner last night— what was all that about?” She didn’t look at him, pushing the box into the shelf fully. 

Alastor had been inspecting _ something _along the walls idly, peering over the wallpaper that Niffty had only recently asked him to supervise, lest they had to tear up the rest of the wallpaper in the Hotel. That would do them no good. At the question, he didn’t turn, humming in response. “Dinner…?” The question was stated aloud, bring a claw to his chin as he tapped it in thought. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers as he remembered, “you mean that darling employee’s little show?” His tone dropped slightly. How could he ever have forgotten such an event?

“Quite a spectacle, wasn’t it?” He paused. “You know, perhaps she’s been given too much freedom over the others?” He questioned Charlie, as if accusing her of being _ too light _ on you; insinuating that it was _ your _ fault for the entire situation. _ Manipulative, entirely untrustworthy. _

Charlie was silent for a moment, returning to the flats of her feet as she secured the box onto the shelf. “I wouldn’t call it a show.” Her tone was _ quick, _something she had no doubt picked up from her father, molded from her experience in Hell itself. She turned to face the focus of her conversation. 

“She’s going through a lot, don’t you think? The girl lost her _ memory. _ She was nearly _ killed.” _ Apparently she also had a flare of exaggeration, as she was plenty aware of the fact that it wasn’t possible to _ die _ from such weapons; the only way _ she _ was aware of was the extermination that occurred annually. Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, peering up at Alastor with a frown. “You know, if you have enough time on your hands to be with her constantly, maybe I should give _ you _ more work.” 

She wasn’t having it. 

_ “But—“ _ he shot back, relinquishing his spot near the wall to glide effortlessly over to her, taking a glance at all the nonsense baubles she kept close to her in those old boxes that cluttered the majority of the rooms. Charlie scoffed. “There isn’t much work to be done, you see? Not right now, we’ve got a system going that _ you’re _ the head of! I _ help _ you run this Hotel, _ this dream, _but I certainly don’t own it, darling.” Alastor grinned down at her, leering down from under his lashes. A long moment of silence passed. 

“And besides… I only _look_ after that ‘valued’ employee of yours! What would happen if I wasn’t there?” He questioned, toning it as if you would get into heaps of trouble without _his_ supervision. 

Charlie released a sigh, bringing her thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose. “Just— I don't want it to happen again, okay? No drama. Sort it out.” It was like she was running a kindergarten at times. This dream she had would succeed; she _ needed _ it to. “ _ Peacefully.” _Her eyebrows raised briefly: “...Sound fair?” 

He narrowed his eyes. “It does.” He turned away from her, finger rolling some sort of ornament on the countertop haphazardly, “but then again, there isn’t much to _ sort out _ on my part, is there?” Alastor defended, turning on his heel. He glanced at her from over his shoulder with a grin, “perhaps for _ her, _however...” And with that, he sauntered out of the area, leaving a slightly agitated Charlie in his wake. 

_ He didn’t enjoy authority figures, did he? _

Alastor clenched the small bauble he had stolen for Charlie’s collection, turning it in his hand curiously as he mulled over her words. _ Perhaps he out to speak to you. _ It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to in general; no, he’d made it sort of a scheduled thing - he showed up nearly _ every day _, turning your once peaceful moments bitter, you yourself being kept away at night by his impending visits. 

Oh, but how he _ craved _ it, he _ wanted _ to see you. It was odd, even for him to hold such fascination for such a little thing. Perhaps it was her difference in comparison to others: you were _ kind, _ somewhat _ innocent— _ something a demon would oppose, perhaps. You were no she-devil; not a red-horned demon, but instead something unique and _ unusual _for Hell to see.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap yourself in a warm fluffy towel; it’d been a _ damn _ good morning compared to yesterday. Combing your hair, brushing your teeth— _ something that Alastor ought to do— _ you felt clean _ er. _The sight of the revealed bruises on your neck made an uncomfortable feeling swell in your chest, a tightness that constricted you. With a deep inhale, you released a sigh and exited the doorway that lead from the bathroom to your room. 

Stepping over to the closet to indulge yourself in some comfortable clothes, you pulled back the sliding door. Instantly, you were greeted by an _ unusual _feeling, that child-like emotion you got when ascending the basement stairs after turning off the light, in fear of a monster chasing you. Unnerved, you reach over and flick on the light. Whatever monster you had been expecting hadn’t been the one that was directly in front of you. There Alastor stood, all up in your business. Screaming, you take a few steps back before hitting the edge of your bed, leaning against it for support, your chest heaving. 

_ “What the fuck are you doing in my closet!?” _

Your voice had been demanding before you began to instantly regret your rather _ impulsive _ choice of words. He held up your _ lingerie _ that you had bought with Angel, such clothing left untouched; having his other hand to his mouth as if he were stifling laughter. “Absolutely scandalous—“ he shook his head, putting it back down somewhere that _ wasn’t _ near him. It didn’t really _ click _ that he had been holding the intimate clothing, too stumped over the fact that he was _ in your damn closet. _

Alastor emerged with a jovial smile, walking over to the door and testing the hinges as if to preoccupy his mind. Upon moving towards you, he noticed the exhaustion in your eyes, contemplating and _ probably _ knowing that he was to blame. He craned down, and you leaned back. “I wanted to speak with you, darling! No need to look so distraught at my arrival!” A pause. “ _ It almost hurts my feelings…” _He cooed, causing you to cringe. Your heart was beating so fast that you felt it might combust if he got any closer to you.

You watched as his eyes trailed across your form with a mocking look, his mouth parted slightly as if he had not been expecting such a display: “Oh, _ dearie, _ I wanted to see you, but not _ that _ much of you!” He joked airily with that annoying posh laugh of his; a _ wolf-whistle _ track playing in the background as if a disembodied audience was spectating. That, or it could have been an extension of _ himself. _

Your face immediately burned in embarrassment; not only from his comment but because you now realize that only moments ago he had held up your _ lingerie. _ Your damn lingerie! He had gone through your clothes like a _ bastard! _ You remained silent for a long moment, looking anywhere _ but _ him. “I don’t want to talk to you,” you whispered, leaning off of the bed and ducking past him. “I don’t want you near me.” Each phrase, similar as to how he had done, made you angrier. “I don’t want you in my room, I don’t want to be your _ favorite!” _ Spurred on from the emotional trauma, a mist began to cloud your eyes, spilling down your cheeks in the form of _ tears. _ “Look, Alastor, _ look.” _

You moved your still-wet hair away from your neck, allowing him front row access to view the bruises and puncture marks that he did to _ you. _ “ _ Just leave me alone,” _ you move your hand to your face to rub away the emotion, moving over to the ajar door and motioning for him to get _ out. _

He blinked slowly, his failed attempt at jovialness deflating albeit slightly, cracking somewhat of a grimace once he saw _ tears; _ followed by an emotion that sparked within: the _ thrill of seeing you cry. _ He _ adored _ playing with his food, enjoyed breaking them down; destroyed them, dissecting them, but it wasn’t entirely _ fun _ with you… _ for some reason. _ It was _ exhilarating, _ the smallest semblance of an emotion that was foreign to him— what was it? _ Guilt? _Plagued his unfeeling heart.

“Leave?” He questioned aloud, head cocked to the side as he approached her with an almost _ apologetic _ tone. “ _ Whatever for? _I’ve only just come here to speak with you— to greet you on this fine day!” He responded cheerfully but paused once more when he saw your expression. You looked on the verge of a breakdown; and a long, drawn-out sigh escaped him. 

“Would it be… suitable to speak later, perhaps?” He asked finally, as if you were truly _ such _ a chore, making him wait for you to get your shit together; but hey, there was _ some _ sympathy there for once! He didn’t _ completely _ undermine your feelings this time. Alastor brushed his hair with a flourish, a hand on his hip as he stared at you expectantly. “ _ Well?” _

_ Was he serious? He was serious. _

You didn’t want to speak to him at _ all, _you didn’t want to see his stupid grin again, hear his over-friendly tone, you just wanted to forget he existed. “...If I say yes, will you get out?” A heavy breath escaped your lips, shoulders slumping. 

He laughed, “Of course I will! But _ remember…” _ his tone dropped and he leaned down into your personal space, his microphone tapping against your chest as if _ pointing _ to you, “I want to speak with you later. I’ll expect you midday!” Alastor hummed, quickly snapping into his usual proud posture before leisurely strolling out of the room, nonetheless _ staring at you the entire time. _“Oh, and please put some clothes on before seeing me!” 

You slammed the door in his face, silence filling the room. 

Leaning your head against the door with a thud, you let out a long groan before twisting around and moving back to the closet. _ He went through your clothes. He disregarded your privacy. _ You gritted your teeth, grabbing a hoodie off of a hanger, the necessary underclothes, pants, and shoes, you got dressed rather quickly, allowing your hair to remain down not only to hide the effects of his anger, but because it was _ cold. _ You turned your attention to the crumpled up paper on your desk.

It had all the information you needed scrawled onto that tiny scrap; a starting point to the chaos that already wrecked havoc with your afterlife. A phone that hadn’t been turned on was placed next to the note on the desk, something that Charlie had given you; as she wanted to make sure you had a way to contact her if you ever needed to. Until this point, you had no actual need to use such a device. With all the necessary tools at your disposal, all neatly tucked within your hoodie pocket, you trot downstairs with a singular goal in mind. 

The outside world would be freezing, no doubt, but you were willing to go to the ends of the nine circles if it meant you could get some answers. You were well aware of the fact that you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but the antsy feeling you felt itched in your chest; you wanted to _ know. _

The lobby was quiet, Husk stuck in the same spot as usual - head against the counter with a string of drool dribbling down the wood. A broken alcohol bottle lay on the floor, shattered this way and that. The thought of cleaning it crossed your mind briefly, but you ultimately decided that Niffty would notice it soon enough. The fireplace that never seemed to run out of wood, warmed the room in a comfortable heat. You turned your back to the sight and, grabbing something quick to satisfy your hunger, exited the Hotel. 

Alastor, _ thankfully _, was nowhere to be seen.

With a gentle sigh, you take a breath of the freezing air, suddenly second-guessing your choices of coming out here in the first place. There weren’t many demons around; only those who had fur or otherwise heavy, insulated outfits. You remained in place, contemplating where to _ go. _ You itched to stretch your legs after days of remaining practically motionless; you wished to go somewhere _ private. _And apparently, your own room was too much to ask for. You let out a hum of inquisitive nature, brushing the hair out of your face when a gust of wind blew past you, unhinging strands of strays from the warmth from beneath your hood.

_ The Pier. _

It wasn’t too far, practically secluded compared to other parts of the circle the Hotel inhabited; not only that, but it was one of the only places that had spurred a _ memory. _ You walked down the driveway, thoughts of refusing to go out during the night fluttering through your mind; reasoning with yourself that perhaps it would be best. It was _ far _ too dangerous when it came to the later hours; it was the time that the monsters lurked behind every corner and alleyway, the time when creatures scarier than your worst nightmares came to prey upon the unsuspecting. Stuffing your hands deeper into your hoodie pockets, you continued on.

Despite the deep red sky that took over the gentle blue of Earth, there was familiarity with how the shops and tourist attractions were set up. Though, there were not exactly _ tourists, _were there? Clubs lined the streets, a singular one catching your attention simply by the name alone: Killer Club. You breathed a breath of amusement over how unoriginal it was. Without the flashing lights of the night, the streets looked more akin to a ghost town than an actual overpopulated city.

Trash rolled down the street which caused a frown to press into your lips. The urge to throw it in the trash crossed your mind until you looked around and found there was no garbage can in sight. Of course, there wasn’t. _ This was Hell after all. _

You passed by a plethora of different stores; some names were clever and unique, such as: Evil Doughnuts, Devil’s Diner, Nightmare Nightclub… while others were less: SuperMarket, Dentist to name a few. It was ultimately a quiet journey, and you found yourself _ relaxing. _ The cold air burned your lungs with each inhale, but each breath made it a bit easier to bear. Sinking deeper into your hoodie, you kicked a stone down the pavement thoughtlessly. It felt nice to _ not _think, for once. 

Upon arriving at the pier, you walked down the creaking boards that threatened to give out with each step you took, somehow remaining sturdy enough nevertheless. The immediate area was vacant, a low fog shrouding the waters; a lone boat releasing a low, deep blast of air in the distance. 

You pulled out the letter in your pocket, contemplating whether to actually call IMP to see whether or not they could offer you assistance, in whatever form that may have been. According to their catchy jingle, they had the means of having access to the living world; and with that, the possibility of helping you out _ for a price. _ You leaned against the wooden pole to your right, staring at the crumpled piece of paper that had gone through _ so much. _ Why were you feeling guilt over a piece of _ paper? _You released a heavy sigh. 

Eventually, you found yourself obtaining enough confidence to at least pull out your phone. You stick your hand through your hoodie pocket, said pocket empty of such items, despite you being _ entirely _ certain and _ clearly _ remembering tucking it safely in it. Your eye twitched. _ He did something, that stupid Radio Demon. _You recalled how he had made the remote disappear right in front of your face when you went to grab it. 

Crumbling the piece of paper in your fist, you turn around, staring at the paper bitterly. Something akin to a shadow crossed your peripheral vision causing you to look in the direction immediately for your own safety. There was nothing. You were just being paranoid now; your nerves were shot. Turning back around, the familiar form of Alastor greeted you, causing a sharp gasp to be released from your lips, jumping back and nearly falling off of the pier itself. 

Alastor, ever _ such _ a gentleman, grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you back before you could fall to your untimely demise. Instinctively, you let out a small ‘thank you’, barely audible and absolutely _ not _directed at him. A habit, if you will.

“How quaint, who would have guessed we’d meet in such a place?” 

“...Did you _ follow _ me?” 

You were fed up, knowing the answer for yourself. No matter what he said, _ you just knew. _He was a creep; a predator and, unfortunately for you, you were the prey.

“Of course not, my dear! Although, the next time you decide to go on a stroll, do be sure to tell someone!”

You frowned. 

“Looking for something?” His tone screamed ‘asshole’, using your phone akin to something of a poker chip, forcing you to converse. 

You clench your fists, coming to terms that you very much _ dislike him. _ He was a nuisance, _ annoying. _ He _ hurt _ you. It wasn’t like he didn’t mean it; _ Angel _ hadn’t meant it, you were sure, but he was too stubborn and proud to admit it. Alastor knew _ exactly _what he had been doing, even in the midst of his rage. 

_ “Why do you have my phone?” _

“You left it on your nightstand—“ He replied. 

_ Bullshit. _You release a huff, becoming aware of that fact simply by the smirk on his face; his large eyes peering down mockingly at you. You lunge at him and attempt to grab the phone, face reddening as your blood pressure spiked from his constant antagonization. When he lifted it higher, you grit your teeth and ceased your childish and desperate acts in favor of watching him in seething silence. 

He bent down, _ rewarding _ the phone back to you, batting his lashes. _ “Try not to lose it again~” _ he cooed, speaking to you in that _ insufferable _baby voice. You snatched the phone. Alastor hummed in disapproval at your antics, as if his patience had been dwindling ever since yesterday’s incidents. 

You didn’t invite him to join the pier, no, but he bulldozed his way in as if he were entitled to your time; your _ presence, _ and overall access to you when he most certainly was not. Just because he was frightening and powerful, did not mean he could push you around. He was abusing his abilities and ultimately _ you _ , taking advantage of his position and superior power like a _ true _psychopath. 

“I didn’t say you could join me.” You state matter-of-factly, moving to seat yourself at the edge of the pier, dangling your legs off of the edge as you watched the water lap at the wooden poles.

He leaned against the pole you had once been on. 

“—You know,” he broke the silence, “if there’s something you need to talk about, you _ could _ speak to me about it.” He offered thoughtfully. You grimaced. The act would have been considered _ kind _if it were not coming from Alastor. 

“Aren’t you the one that wanted to talk to _ me?” _You shot back defensively, feeling eyes on you without even turning your head. You swung your legs back and forth, thoughtlessly. He most likely would just try to pull information out of you; you held no doubt that he would pull such a petty move on you. 

He found himself to be smug with your frustration; a hint of desire for your _ submission _ as he watched you rub your temple out of sheer stress. “Ah yes—“ he purred, moving his claws to clasp around your shoulders, delighting himself in the feeling of you stiffening; digging into your flesh in a teasing manner as if flexing his strength mundanely. “I’ve… ruffled your feathers, haven’t I?” He began slowly, his condescendingly happy demeanor certainly not helping to seem genuine. 

It didn’t help that your first instinct was to shoot back with an ‘it seemed that my actions made _ you _a bit sensitive’, but you managed to bite down on your tongue. Your silence was an answer enough, you presumed; staring out into the open of the lake; wincing when his claws came in contact with your shoulders, instinctively recoiling at how close they were to your neck, 

Alastor sighed with an air of static; and if you had been looking at him, you would have caught a glimpse of his ear twitching slightly. “_ Oh, I have… _” he placed another claw on your shoulder to turn you around, “Charlie’s spoke with me, you know—“ he gazed down at you. “What would make you feel better, darling?” 

Being forced to turn around, you released a small groan before lifting yourself back up into a standing position. “You already know, Alastor. You just don’t know how to take a hint.” Your words didn’t hold a sting to them; you were _ exhausted _over his neverending nosiness and pestering. It was as if he were a kid who constantly poked you with a pencil even after telling them to stop. You looked at his hand, bringing your own up and attempting to peel it off of you. 

_ He liked touching. _

He tightened his grip, claws threatening to ruin part of your outfit as he leaned in, “I suppose I could give you a little more space, but who’s to say you won’t get in any trouble…?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, “Who’s to say you won’t die?” He released you, taking a step back with a hefty, malicious laugh. “I’ve got to keep an eye on you, can’t you see? What would happen to my dear employee…?” 

Every alarm in your head rang off their stands, a large red flag that you couldn’t miss even if you _ tried. _ “I didn’t—“ You wanted to strangle him. “I’m not a child! I don’t _ need _ you to watch over me.” You mulled over his words, running your hands down your face with a groan. He just didn’t _ get it. _ “I’m _ already _ dead, I can’t die again.” 

He threw his head back to elicit a posh daddy laugh, “That’s what you think.” He brought a claw to your hair, twirling it before yanking on it roughly to pull you towards him. “You _ really _ don’t know much about this rather drab place, do you?” He placed a hand on his hip, drumming his claws gently on the surface of his suit. “Perhaps it would do you well to get to know where you’ll be staying then, yes?” He cooed, smiling down at you like a _ creep _as if alluding to ‘showing you around.’

Before you could respond or even struggle against him, he spun you around, arm around your shoulder and holding you directly next to him; even as you struggled to keep up with his large strides.

“What are you _ doing?” _

He looked down at you for a moment, before resuming forward. “My dear, a bit of courtesy goes a long way,” he hummed, “I believe Angel tried to show you once but, with his personality… what shall I say?” His tone was airy, _ song-like. _

“I’m giving you a detour around the Hell you must now endure, the place of your eternal stay; your unfortunate getaway.” He motioned with his arm to the vacant streets as he strode down the block with you secured tightly to his side. 

“And if I say I don’t want to?” You questioned.

“Oh, don’t be such a bore!” He exclaimed.

You sighed: “I think I would much rather bid you adieu.” 

The further he led you, the more he got into his little song; making a tune on the spot. “Consider it a bonding experience then!” He leaned down to you, pinching your cheek harshly: “I dare say, you might enjoy it too.” He tightened his grip on your shoulders, though, he did slow his stride once he realized you were having a difficult time keeping up, lest he have to _ carry _you. You would much rather die before that happened. 

The deeper you went into the city; the more populated it became, passing different stores and attractions on his merry, and your bitter, way. 

“You see, it all begins here my dear, with this little thing between you and me,” he sang, grabbing your chin and pulling your head up to look at him, even while walking through a crowd of demons. “I was never one to hold such a fascination with those around me, except for when I was about _ three.” _He grinned, letting his hand fall from your face, in which you rubbed your chin gingerly. 

“A fascination-“

“-Now how about here, ah yes, here you can see the boozers and your common losers,” he pointed to different crowds, “the beggars, the gamblers, and everything in between.” 

“What makes _ you _ so different?” 

“Me?” He laughed, leading you through the crowd and it _ parts _for him. Demons began whispering, some staring at you, others trying to grab you, in which Alastor pressed your face against his form as if protecting you from the wayward demons. Others were too scared to even lurk in his presence— he was the Radio Demon, and apparently extremely well known. “Oh darling, the only thing different about me is that I strike fear into the heart of demons who ever dare to come near.”

You remained silent, worried and concerned over the fact that he was leading you deeper and deeper into the city. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll learn soon enough about the things that lurk and dwell above your bed.” He grinned, tailcoat swaying behind him as he sauntered on, introducing you to parts of the city you hadn’t yet discovered for yourself. 

He slowed his place, b-lining it for a clock tower. “Of course, I’d never dream of hurting those I hold dear, so let me make myself clear.” His tone dropped, bringing his face close to you; “While you’re in Hell, I suggest you stay right here.” He held you tight against his side. You felt nauseated.

“Because, sweetheart, don’t you see?” His tone picked up again, jovial as if what just happened hadn’t just happened, “There’s no better place to be down here in these filth-ridden streets.”

_ You felt used. Abused. _

The two of you stood beneath a towering clock tower. His song had faded away, silence and static from his person surrounding the immediate area. “See that there?” He pointed to the ticking hands, “a countdown, you see— for the extermination!” There was giddy glee in his voice; unnerving you. He continued to hold you close, against your will. If it was up to you, you would have been across town already. 

“Thousand of souls lost each year, many more to come.” He turned to you, you trained your eyes on the clock before breaking out of your daze and looking at him. The moment you did, he continued: “But not you, darling! I’ll make sure of that!” 

You felt_ nervous_. Sick. “Why don’t you show this much concern for the other employees? Vaggie? Charlie? Angel? Husk? _ Why me?” _

He grabbed your hand and twirled you around with a gleeful chuckle. “Oh dear! Don’t you understand? You’re my favorite! Such a charm, _ such a dream, _ surely something that must be preserved—“ He spun you into his chest, clenching you too roughly because he was _ fucking crazy. _You struggled to get away, and when he allowed you to simply return to his side, he leaned down. 

“You keep saying I’m your favorite.” Your eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed, _ confused. _

“Of course I do! What other way to put such notions together, darling~!” He brought a claw to twist a strand of your hair delicately, almost _ affectionately. _ “You’re my favorite because you’re the most entertaining! The most heartbreaking! A wayward demon who acts more like an angel, lost to such unholy pits! _ What is there not to love?” _ He exclaimed dramatically, an audience cheering erupting from behind him— _ from _him, 

He leaned in _ too _close to your face, and while you wanted to run away, you managed to stand your ground, narrowing your eyes. 

“How do you do that audience sound thing?” 

“My dear, there are secrets that must be kept.”

He sounded like a magician. A _ crazy _magician. Groaning and leaning back, suddenly uncomfortable with his proximity, he allowed you to detach from him for the moment. “I’m going back.” You stated monotonously. 

Like a dog to its master, he was suddenly at your side. “Since we both happen to be out, how about we take the journey back together?” He insisted, leaving little room for retaliation. 

“Do I have a choice?” You peer up at him, stuffing your hands into your hoodie pockets. 

He laughed. “Don’t be silly!” 

The journey was short, leading you to believe that he hadn’t actually taken you too far into the city as it had originally been made out to be. He talked your ear off, though, you weren’t necessarily _ listening _, offering an absentminded nod here and there. He didn’t seem to notice. You gave up trying to get away when he grabbed you and pulled you back against his side, pressing your cheek against his suit. 

_ You were too tired. _

Upon the return to the Hotel, he let you go, causing you to stumble forward a bit. You blinked warily up at him, a frown touching your lips, watching silently as he turned away to interact with the other Hotel residents. Left angry and _ confused, _ you returned to your room to mull and ponder Alastor’s strange, creepy mannerisms; _ yet again. _

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled your phone out and the crumpled piece of paper.

_ Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day. _


	22. Warning Signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the individual on the discord who helped me write this chapter by being my personal Angel Dust! Couldn’t have done it without you!

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. 

To say that you had been kept up would have been a laughable feat; your blankets and sheets telling a story that declared you had been twisting and turning for  _ god knows how long.  _ Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours; time was a figment of imagination that followed you into death, revoking you of the pleasures of floating in a void of eternal oblivion. The moment you thought you could get some shut eye, a thought would pop into your mind that would make your face contort into a grimace. 

He had given you space, but at what  _ cost?  _

You couldn’t catch a break even while you were _alone. _He was a total _dick_. He played you like a yo-yo, treated you like a porcelain doll that would crack under pressure. A _toy. _One second he was fine, the next he wasn’t. Alastor was an uncontrollable force of nature, a demon of unimaginable power and the ability of such catastrophic destruction. The only viable option _was_ to fear him, and you did. You couldn’t avoid him forever, you were certain he wouldn’t allow such a thing. Would he do well with his promise?

What was the  _ root  _ of all of this?  _ This ‘fascination’? _

The foul thought curled low in your stomach, harboring you in a constant state of nausea. Holding yourself up with your elbow, you flipped a pillow over and screamed into it as loud and for as long as you possibly could until your lungs frenzied desperately for air.  _ You were torn, stressed, you couldn’t catch a break.  _ He plagued your thoughts like a disease, and despite your best efforts, there wasn’t an antidote. How could you  _ deal  _ with him? Who could you tell about his constant pestering?  _ What could be done?  _

Was he your personal hell? 

There was a hesitant knock on the door, causing you to freeze. Stiffening, you pulled yourself up and stared at the mahogany wooden door with daggers in your eyes. Suspecting it was Alastor himself, you bit your tongue and remained silent in hopes that if you didn’t answer he would actually go away.  _ No, he wouldn’t.  _ The bastard would probably just warp space and time to situate himself in the room, once again failing to respect your privacy. You wouldn’t put such a feat past him, after all, he had already gone through your  _ closet.  _

There was another knock and, with a tired exhale, you pulled yourself up and off the bed, walking over to the door. Composing yourself, you closed your eyes and turned the knob, opening it to see a familiar arachnid demon who had ultimately been the  _ last  _ individual you expected. You furrowed your eyebrows, surprised to find yourself secretly  _ relieved.  _ He looked just as surprised as you did. 

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, rubbing your eyes sleepily. “I thought you  _ hated  _ me.” You stifled a yawn, exhaustion suddenly hitting you full force with no intent on stopping. 

“We needa talk, mano a mano.” An accent and a phrase slipped past him that you couldn’t quite place, perhaps a bit too lost in your mind to begin to contemplate. 

“...Okay.” You stepped out of the way, letting him shuffle inside and closing the door behind you with a subtle  _ ‘click’.  _ Turning around, you watched as he fidgeted, beelining it for your bedside table out of sheer habit, searching for booze before ultimately coming to the realization that  _ hey, not everyone drowned their problems in liquor.  _

Uncertain, you walk over to the bed before sitting down, nervously watching him tear through your drawers. “Angel, what—“ you cut yourself off, too stumped over the fact that he had  _ willingly  _ come to your room and initiated a  _ conversation.  _ Except, it wasn’t much of a conversation. He was an eight foot tall spider; there wasn’t much you could do even if you  _ tried.  _ You sat up straight, your expression flatlining.  _ You were too tired for this right now. _

With a loud groan, he flopped onto your bed, a slur of curses and other unforgiving phrases leaving his mouth. You leaned back, sitting crisscross applesauce and refraining from touching him. You had never seen him act in such a way; and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to again. His lower set of arms were crossed, grip tight. His top set viciously rubbing at his face. He was muttering and making faces of all sorts before flopping his arms to his chest and staring at the ceiling. His leg, foot still touching the ground despite him sprawled out on his back, bounced quickly in what appeared to be agitation.

He sneered, turning his head to look at you; a hint of  _ remorse  _ wrinkling his brows. “So, ya got a fuckin’ boy toy, huh?” His tone was sarcastic, sitting up almost  _ violently,  _ hands now gripping the sheets as he averted his gaze to the space in front of him. You were at a loss for words, truthfully.

He certainly had caught on a long time ago. Alastor was attached and almost  _ committed.  _ You were avoidant and tried to repel him, despite having almost no power to actually  _ do  _ anything about it. He had been in your position more times than he’d ever like to mention or remember. It  _ frightened  _ him. The moment he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically  _ soft,  _ quiet:

_ “...Alastor?” _

The world seemed to crash around you, confused at his choice of words, and only once he had actually elaborated, did you release a wheeze. You almost wanted to  _ laugh _ at him for coming up with such a wacky concept.  _ But you didn’t. _ Your eyes searched his face for any hint that he was pulling your leg and, when your search came up fruitless, you remained silent. There was a heaviness in the air. It felt a lot more  _ personal  _ than your other conversations with him. “I think  _ I’m  _ the toy.” You sighed. You fell back into the bed, grumbling the words as you ran your hands down your face. 

Angel leaned his elbows on his knees and heaved a heavy breath. He knew you were smart, and he found himself to be glad that you understood. “One way ta put it. He’s been followin’ ya around like a shitty version of a lost  _ dog.” _ His voice grew in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. 

He turned his head in your general direction, opening his mouth to say something further before ultimately decided against it. Slowly, he laid back down, generously spaced from you, returning to his previous state of staring at the ceiling once more as if it would open up and offer the answers the two of them sought. 

The air was tense, and Angel wasn’t entirely sure how to get the conversation rolling  _ smoothly.  _ He didn’t even  _ know _ how to help you out in a situation like this.  _ He didn’t know how to help himself out.  _ Not only that, but he had to mention the fact that he had been kind of… a  _ dick _ lately. Not that he would ever admit it. No,  _ you _ probably thought that— he knew he was innocent.  _ Er, innocent-er than you. _

You wouldn’t have called it uncomfortable in the sense that it would have been if it had been Alastor there instead of Angel; but even then, he was on shaky grounds with you. He hadn’t apologized  _ either  _ of the times, and truthfully, you were beginning to accept the fact that he most likely never would. But  _ this— _ this was something a  _ friend  _ would do: to come talk to you. Needless to say, you felt the inklings of relief trickle over you. 

“I don’t know why.” You stated suddenly, breaking the silence. “I didn’t do anything to cause him to do this. He won’t  _ leave me alone.”  _ You weren’t sure why it felt natural to talk to him about such matters, but for a reason you would never figure out,  _ it did.  _ “You remember that store we went to and how I bought that lingerie?” A question that didn’t seek a response. “He was in my closet, Angel. Holding it.  _ He was in my closet!”  _ You then began to go on a tangent, speaking with your hands as if to get across your frustrations easier. “He called me his  _ favorite,  _ he dragged me around town earlier and told me he had a ‘ _ fascination _ ’” you mocked his voice, “with me.” You took a breath before continuing.

“He followed me to the pier. He stole my phone and used it as a bargaining chip to talk to me,” and for the grand finale, “he’s  _ ALWAYS touching me!”  _ You let your hands fall to the sides of you, allowing them to bounce off of the mattress as if it were too much to even keep them in the air. 

And so he listened. He let you curse that stupid bastard’s name and  _ he felt better.  _ At least you still had your kick. “Maybe that’s why.” He stole a glance at you, looking away immediately after. “Maybe… he’s so interested because yer so…” he trailed off, a hum coming from his throat as he began flailing his hand around in the air as if fishing for the right words. He settled for  _ a _ word, “... _ you.”  _ He pinched the space between his eyes and groaned. “Like, yer not like otha’ demons, kid, yer somethin’ special, I’ll say that much.”

When he stated it was because you were  _ you,  _ you felt as if you were talking to the jackass himself. So cryptic in his words and never giving you an exact, basic word-for-word answer, always beating around the bush. Before you could question it, he gave you a further explanation.  _ Not like other demons.  _ You didn’t fit in with the hooligans. You were something  _ different.  _ At the end of the day, did you even  _ want  _ to be different? Would Alastor eventually get bored of you when he had his fun? Would he ever truly let you  _ rest?  _

You didn’t want to know the answer to that, entirely certain you already  _ knew _ just by how he acted thus far. 

Angel clicked his tongue before continuing, “and I know that’s because ya can’t do  _ shit _ against it. Touchy feels ain’t no game for him, take  _ me _ fer example—“ he gestured with an exaggerated flourish to his chest, “—he ain’t gonna do shit, ‘cause I’d do the same right back.” He paused, narrowing his eyes.

With a slow blink, you recalled Alastor’s words regarding your passiveness. “So what, I just have to touch him and he’ll back off?” You frowned. “If I show him any attention I feel like he would think that was a win in his book.” 

“... _ Kinda like he’s got a twisted crush on ya, huh?” _

You already shot up, staring owlishly at him, eyes wide. “The infamous Radio Demon having a crush on me like a schoolboy?” You shook out of your initial shock, laughing and falling back into the mattress. “ _ Nooo…” _ That thought was going into the trash can ASAP.

Angel shrugged, resting his arms behind his head as he kicked a leg to rest over the other, “I mean, it ain’t too wild ta think about, honestly.” He watched your movements briefly and without much interest. 

The thought of Alastor having a crush on you made you want to sink into oblivion and never return. You bit the inside of your cheek. “It can’t be that simple, Angel,” you sighed, “it never is.” Having disregarded that thought, you offered him no further explanation; the mere idea causing you to desire the sweet release of the  _ extermination.  _

“What do you think I should do, though? I just—“ you sat up, running your fingers through you hair. “ _ I can’t avoid him forever.” _

He fell silent, closing his eyes briefly. “So, ah...how’s, uh, how’s the booboo?”

At the topic switch, you felt yourself breathe out a sigh of relief. His choice of words regarding your wound tickled you. “...Which one?” You alluded to the fact with a  _ look _ that Alastor has indeed  _ hurt you.  _

He resisted the urge to leap on you and turn your head this way and that just to fuss, causing his body to convulse suddenly before he brushed it off with a stretch and yawn. “ _ No, stupid _ . The one from yer’s truly.” 

You narrowed your eyes, placing your palm on your stomach. “ _ I almost died.” _ You quoted Charlie, the ghost of a smile on your lips. You weren’t mad at him for that,  _ not exactly _ , at least. “It’s not your fault. It was  _ his.”  _ You didn’t even want to say his name.

He let your statement pass without so much as a bat from his eye, returning to the previous topic much to your dismay. “Maybe ya _should _try steppin’ up yer game. Not yer… insults, yeah, don’t think I ain’t picked up on that.” His voice lowered to a mumble as he scratched his forehead, “_fuckin’ kindergartener level shit._” His voice continued at a normal level, “Like… try holdin’ his hand. Make kissy faces at him. _HA!_” Angel began laughing his ass off, curling into himself, his amusement shaking the bed as he kicked his legs childishly, “and then— AND THEN! Ya—“ he gasped for air, “_ya smooch him!”_ As he settled down, he refused to mention your stomach again.

_ He wasn’t quite ready for that conversation. _

Long gone was the gentle promise of an apology, and an uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty crept up your spine; settling low in your stomach as he got his rocks off by laughter alone. You forced a smile, sitting up and looking down at your hands, anxiously twirling your thumbs together. “I don’t think he’s capable of something as light-hearted as a  _ crush _ , Angel.” You sigh. “And if, for some awful reason that  _ were  _ true, he’s done an awful job at relaying it.” Was it so awful to think that Alastor had a crush on you?

_ Yes. Yes it was. God forbid.  _

“He hurt me.” You stated, brushing your hair back to allow him sight of the puncture wounds and bruises. You narrowed your eyes, annoyance starting to take over. “And… and then proceeded to act like he didn’t  _ do _ anything.” You looked over to Angel then, lip twitching. 

“He  _ frowned.” _

Angel choked on an inhale, sputtering and wheezing in bewilderment. It took a few minutes for his breathing to regulate again, and once it did, he sat up; rubbing his throat and he eyed your own. “Frowned… huh?” Not gonna lie, his stomach dropped sixty-nine feet and then some. “That’s an…  _ odd _ way to confess, heh.” He offered a sheepish grin, going to reach out to you before retracting with a frown. The air was gaining weight again. He had trouble tearing his eyes away from your neck, his teeth gently working at his bottom lip, almost  _ nervously.  _

You nodded absentmindedly, bringing your legs up and hugging them close to your chest. “ _ I don’t know what to do.”  _ You were at a loss, “I’m tired of this. I can’t escape him not matter  _ what _ I do.” You watched his hand reach out to you before retracting, your eyebrows furrowing. “He told me he would give me some space,” you laughed without an inkling of humor, “but he hasn’t  _ really  _ left me alone.” You mind was plagued with thoughts of him despite wanting to do nothing more than  _ run away.  _ “I’m scared of him, Angel.” Your eyes were glassy, staring ahead at a wall. “ _ I’m really, really scared of him.”  _

He saw that emotion. He felt it. It… felt  _ raw and uncomfortable.  _ Angel noticed the tears begin to build and he shifted awkwardly.  _ Jesus. Shit. Uhhh, fuck?  _ His mind churned for something,  _ anything  _ to say. Be it smart or something witty. Like a breakthrough across his mind, his eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. “ _ Hoooly shit. _ ” His tone was a whisper, but filled with realization nonetheless. 

You brought a fist to your eyes, rubbing them as a stray tear rolled down your cheek. The whisper made you turn you head to face him, and when his eyes widened and a grin crossed his face,  _ you felt called out.  _

He began bouncing in place. “HOOOLY SHIT,  _ TOOTS. _ He likes ya because  _ ya don’t show yer afraid!” _

“I don’t show I’m afraid?” You whispered back; eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “That makes no  _ sense.  _ I cried in front of him once.” Earlier today, actually, but it felt like  _ so  _ long ago. 

“Nnnnuh! Shhhuddup!  _ Look!” _ He moves behind you now, one set of arms holding your shoulder gently while the others were spread out in the air. You looked at his hand, surprise evident on your expression. Whether he knew it or not, he was  _ comforting you _ in his own way. At least, that’s what you made of it.

“That’s why ya got his eye! Everyone else showed some form of submission or somethin’! Like a… like a pack of dingos and an alpha!” A hand snapped proudly beside your ear. You jumped. He was bouncing again. “Cryin’ can’t be what he’s after. Cryin’ in front of him is…” he paused, “is fuckin’  _ brave.  _ That ain’t fear. You ain’t… you ain’t  _ caved  _ yet.” With a gasp, he leapt from the bed with a clumsy fumble, barely catching himself before whirling around to you once more. 

“Yer fuelin’ the fire, girlie, and I ain’t too sure how to put it out.”

“I ain’t caved yet…” you repeated his exact words slowly, mulling them over one by one. “Caving?  _ He wants to break me?”  _ You grit your teeth, watching as he leapt from the bed, beginning to reach out when he lost his balance for a moment until he caught himself. You pulled your hand back, hesitant, having it rest upon your lap once more. “Do I just… tell him I’m scared of him and hope for the best?” You tilted your head, pushing yourself up into a standing position.

His grin was absolutely  _ bright.  _ “Again, I ain’t no pro on Al’s mental....  _ Whatever the fuck he’s got goin’ on.  _ But whateva ya doin’, he likes it. Tell ya what,” he placed himself in front of you, bottom arms fixing your tie and shirt while his top set brushed your hair and baaarely swiped away any remnants of tears. “We pull an experiment. A week of bein’ scared openly. See how he does, yeah?” Angel stepped back, giving you a once over before nodding in approval. “I’ll be keepin’ an eye on ya too, don’t worry.”

You blinked, looking up at him with curiosity and uncertainty. “And- And what if it gets worse? Angel,  _ what if that’s not it?”  _ You hoped it was. For your sake. Taking a step forward, you stood on your tippy-toes, reaching up and repositioning his  _ own  _ shirt, a small smile playing on your lips.

He froze, hands twitching in an unsure manner. With fluttering lashes and a cleared throat, he sneered. “Well then,  _ oops.”  _ With a sly sway of his hips, he spun on his heel and made for your door, briefly pausing before it. He glanced from your door to you, expression softening ever so slightly. “If it does, ya got me, girlie. It’s ah, late.” He turned without another word and twisted the doorknob.

“Does that mean we’re friends?” The words fled from your lips before you could stop them, letting him go while holding your wrist behind your back.

His foot was out the door the moment you spoke.  _ Friend.  _ His blood ran cold. Guilt ate at him.  _ Even after what he had done, you still refused to give up.  _ He rolled his shoulders, repeating softly, “It’s… late.” He didn’t spare you a glance in fear of his utter surprise and endearment showing plain as day. “Nighty. Ring me if ya need somethin’. Ciao.” And with that, he strode out into the hall and disappeared from sight.

You tilted your head, your eyes trained on the space that he once inhabited. He was a good friend, even if he didn’t want to admit it, despite being an asshole simutaniously. A yawn brought you out of your silent thoughts; your internal worries and woes, finally coming to terms that you would live with what you got. Striding over to the door, you closed it and moved over to the bed with a tired gait. Leaning over it, you peeled back the covered, crawled under the quilt, curled into a ball, before promptly and unceremoniously passing out the moment you closed your eyes. The shadows that shrouded the corners of your peripheral vision had never been so  _ welcome. _

For once, your dreams had been gentle and sweet; lulling your into the promise of never waking up again.

Of course, all good things ended eventually; be it for a hiccup or something more dire. When you found yourself on the brink of consciousness, your stretched out, intelligable grumbles falling from you in an attempt to ride over the hump that made you never want to leave your bed again, for all eternity. Getting up had never been more difficult and yet, for once in your afterlife, you almost felt  _ rejuvinated.  _ Perhaps you really  _ did  _ need that talk with Angel; perhaps your broken relationship had bothered you more than you originally realized. Rolling to your side with a sigh, you slid off of the bed and got dressed.

_ This time, there was no monster in your closet.  _

Heading down into the lobby had been a cinch, passing by a clock on a wall and stating that you had actually  _ slept in  _ somewhat; you couldn’t help but feel  _ nervous  _ to some degree and perhaps even a bit  _ relieved.  _ It felt like a weight had been lifted on your shoulders, only to be replaced with something akin to anxiousness. Your hair was down again, and you refused to tie it up or doing anything creative with it until the remains of his rough touches fled from your skin once and for all. The first individual you noticed was Husk who, unsurprisingly, was drowning himself in his sorrows through different assortments of alcoholic beverages. 

You felt your nerves alleviate at the actuality that you didn’t have to brave this morning alone.

Alastor had been  _ anticipating  _ your arrival, his head turning to watch you enter the lobby. You caught his eye and watched as his eyes narrowed, his smile curved into some twisted form of friendliness, or at least  _ attempted to.  _ You squint at him, releasing a huff before going into the kitchen and grabbing a granola bar from the top of the counter, thankful that Vaggie had gone out and stocked up. 

Exiting the kitchen, you made your way over to Husk, ultimately ignoring the feeling of being  _ stared at _ the best you could. “Do you ever eat?” You sat down on the stool, leaning your elbows on the counter and swinging your legs; only being able to  _ dream  _ of reaching the ground. The stools were tailored to demons that were far taller than you.

Husk side-eyed you, then the granola bar, before looking back up at you again. He shrugged. “Why eat when you can drink? Ain’t like I’m gonna fuckin’ die from starvation.” He rolled his eyes, putting his drink down with a gruff sigh.

Returning the shrug, you glance at the granola bar and break a piece off, reaching over the counter and offering it to him. To your surprise and utter joy, he begrudgingly accepted it, commenting under his breath about ‘ _ if it was free, he wasn’t going to complain. _ ’ The lobby fell into a rare, comfortable silence, the two of you munching away. Your eyes trained to the television, watching the news with little to no interest; simply to keep your mind occupied. 

“How’s life and stuff?” Husk piped up gruffly, mouth half full. 

“We’re both  _ dead-” _

“No shit, I was just trynna start a conversation.” He huffed, swallowing and then going back to his drink to wash it down. He was interrupted by clicking shoes, both of your gazes turning to see Angel coming through the door with long strides, pig in arm, and making a beeline for his target.  _ You.  _

On his way, he noticed Alastor and, like a child, stuck up his nose and turned away. He was at your side in no time, scooting up onto a stool next to you. “Gooooood mornin’, toots. Huskie…” his tone dropped seductively, eyes lidded at the alcoholic demon. Husk grumbled under his breath. Angel turned his attention to you after a moment, quick to offer you a  _ gigantic  _ grin. “Sooo, ya ready for today?” Fat Nuggets wiggled in his arms with a grunt, causing him to set him up on the counter, much to Husk’s dismay.

He leaned into you with a wink. “Pretty nerve wrackin’, huh?” 

Husk was looking between the two of you with disinterest and a hint of confusion. You leaned forward,  _ “SHH!”  _ you pressed a finger to your lips, before reaching over and petting Fat Nuggets for the first time. It looked up at you with an oink, causing you to grin when it pressed into your hand, seeking out your affection. You rubbed behind it’s flopped over ear, relaxing slightly, breathing out an amused sigh.

_ You had to admit, it was cute.  _

Angel rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows back behind him on the countertop, crossing his legs in the process. “Oh,  _ please.”  _ He fussed with his chest fur and hair, shifting to get comfortable. A spare hand reached to pat Fat Nugs, a small smirk on his lips as he passed a lot to Husk. “Ya ready or not?”

Nervously, you nod, uncertain about what exactly he was planning to do.

You were answered quickly. The arachnid started laughing  _ loudly  _ at absolutely nothing, causing you to jump. You started to laugh in a confused manner, and if you could, you would have had ‘???’ floating above your head. Husk was drinking ten fold, drowning himself in his misery. What happened next occurred in slow motion, Angel leaning back into the stool, which causes the chair to lose its balance and him to fall to the ground with a crash, completely and utterly unintentional.

His expression was something you wished you could have gotten on picture and had it framed all over the Hotel. 

“Oh my gosh!  _ Angel! _ ” You couldn’t help but burst into true, genuine laughter. 

He started laughing in an unadulterated, authentic tone. Husk began to drink  _ even more.  _

In the hallway, Niffty was chatting Alastor’s ears off, and he was  _ listening.  _ The moment he heard cackling, his ear pivoted in your general direction; eventually poking him head out to peer at the perpetrators. The moment he sees you laughing,  _ heard  _ you laughing, he felt himself melting. He clawed into the wall; a deep shade adorning his face. 

“ _ Hey! _ I’m down here, buster! We gotta keep working, there’s still so much to do! Oh gosh, look at what you did! Now we have to repair that too!” Niffty scolded him, peering up at the wallpaper than now had long indentations in them. 

With a groan, Angel propped himself up on his arms, nevertheless continuing to chuckle while shaking his head. He stood and dusted himself off, rubbing his now probably bruised ass, before picking up the stool and resituating himself back on it. “Oh! Wanna hear a joke?” His smile was absolutely giddy and downright  _ boyish.  _ He narrowed his eyes the moment he caught a glimpse of Alastor before turning back to you.

“Fuck no.” Groaned Husk.

“A joke?” You giggled, ignoring the feline. You didn’t know he had it in him. “Hit me.” You grin, settling back down into the stool and turning to face him.

Angel swung his legs, “Can I getta drink before I spill?” Husk passed him one. “Thaaanks, sucha  _ doll.”  _ He sipped it and giggled, “What’s the diffference between a tire and three-hundred and sixty-five used condoms?” He stared at you expectantly for a second, scratching Nugs under his snout before bursting out: “One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a  _ great  _ year!  _ HA!”  _

You laughed, a blush enhancing upon your cheeks, his humor was…  _ lude,  _ but you supposed it was simply because he was a pornstar. He found those types of things funny. “Okay, okay,” you giggled. “I got one too.”

Angel swished his cup, grin almost splitting his face in half, “Oh, dooo tell, girlie.”

“What do you call a dwarf mystic who’s also a murderer?” You were grinning ear-to-ear.

He blinked rapidly, already tickled pink at the base. “Jesus, I’unno. What?”

_ “A small medium at LARGE!”  _

Husk choked on his alcohol the moment Angel throwed his head back with a guffaw, sloshing his drink on the counter. “A small me-- Dat’s good!” You felt pride swelling in your chest. He snapped his gaze to Husk with a sly grin, “Ya got any, pussy cat?”

_ “No, fuck off.” _

Beginning to forget it was all a hoax and actually having a genuinely good time, you leaned in.  _ “Are you suuure?”  _ You bat your eyelashes at him playfully. Husk grimaced, frowning, before releasing an ‘alright, alright’. 

Angel glanced over at you in mild surprise in which you shrugged.

“What do you do if a blonde throws a pin at you?” Husk’s gruff voice finally piped up.

Angel indulged at last, taking a swing before coughing, “I’unno, kitty. What?”

“ _ Run!  _ She has a grenade in her mouth!” He howls in laughter; the joke itself wasn’t funny to you, but his laughter was so rare and uncharacteristic of him that it caused you to laugh.

Angel tries to keep a straight face, but ultimately ends up breaking at your own expression. Finishing his drink, he slams his glass down. “Wait, wait, I got one,” he paused briefly, glancing at the doorway with a malicious glint, “How does a woman scare a gynecologist?” 

Husk goes back to drinking after not getting a good reaction out of the two of you, muttering under his breath about how he didn’t  _ do  _ jokes. You don’t notice. 

“How?” 

Reaching over the counter, he nudged Husk gently with another shit eating giggle, “By becoming a ventriloquist!” His eyes bounced between the two of you, mouth open in an ‘Eh? Eh?’ expression. He was having  _ fun,  _ experiment  _ almost  _ slipping from his mind. Meanwhile, Nugs began cleaning up the mess Angel made on the counter.

Husk frowned at Angel, whisking his arm away with a shooing motion. You giggle lightly at his joke, not  _ entirely  _ sold on it, but it tickled you at least. You eyes dart to Fat Nuggets, a gasp escaping you. “He’s--” Was it a he?  _ The pig was drinking. _

Not deterred, Angel waved his hand. “He’s had worse, don’t worry. Gotsa high tolerance. Can I get anotha’?” He winked at Husk.

You gave an uncertain glance to the pig and then to Angel. You suppose it wasn’t an  _ actual  _ pig; you weren’t going to ask, though.  _ That would be rude.  _ Husk muttered under his breath grumpily before passing him another drink. “So, um, Angel,” you lower your voice then, just in case there were any  _ eavesdroppers.  _ You tossed him a  _ look.  _

Angel caught the slide with ease, tipping it up to his lips, “Hmmnghn?” When he made eye contact with you, he nearly choked, but swallows anyway before hacking, “JEsUS.  _ AHEM. _ Euh. Shit, eerrm…”

Alastor was leaning further out of his hiding spot, craning himself from the wall with wide, doe-like eyes. They narrowed once more in something akin to displeasure and ahem--  _ desire? Jealousy?  _ He turned back and straightened himself out. Niffty was dead silent with her arms crossed and an intense frown on her face; she’s being ignored!  _ Ignored for some shitty jokes!  _ Narrowing his eyes, he parted from the energetic cleaner with an excuse.

You began to feel nervous, your humor fizzling out for the briefest of moments. “Is… is it working?  _ What’re we doing?”  _ You were whispering, leaning closer to Angel just to  _ ensure  _ fuckface didn’t hear her. 

_ “There was so much noise over here, I wanted to see what all the ruckus was about! Sounded like some fine jokes to me!”  _

He spun the microphone he conjured elegantly; claws grasping around it tightly.  _ He wanted your attention.  _ Charlie narrowed her eyes from across the room where she had been silently unpacking some festive-looking decor.

You stiffened and go silent almost immediately; looking at Angel. 

Said demon managed to hide his eye roll before he turned to face the counter properly, talking into his cup. “Just some actual jokes. Oh, yaknow.” He nearly snorted in liquor, “until you walked over.” He turned his head and snickered, kicking your shin lightly. Nugs nudged his wrist for a drink, effectively distracting him from the two of you for the time being. 

Taking the as your cue to put up a facade of cowering and avoiding eye contact, you catch Husk’s eye who’s raising an eyebrow at you before ultimately shrugging.  _ He couldn’t be bothered.  _

Glancing at Husk as well, Angel decided to kick it up a notch. “Ey, Smiles.  _ Back up.  _ Can’t’cha see ‘yer freakin’ her out?  _ Geez,  _ the nerve, am I right?” His question was directed at no one in particular, mouth now occupied with liquid. 

“Shouldn’t you be manning the bar instead of joking?” Quipped Alastor, who sent a disapproving look toward Husk, ignoring Angel for the time being. Not for long, however, as his head snaps in his direction, “And you, my feminine fellow! Why, you shouldn’t be  _ drinking,  _ now should you?” Alastor purposefully raised his voice, prompting Charlie to saunter over.

Angel’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. “ _ You fuckin’ snit-- _ ‘Ey, Chucks!” Quicker than she could speak, he downed his drink and chucked the glass behind the counter with a loud shatter. “ _ Oops.”  _ He maintained eye contact with Alastor before scoffing, picking up Nugs, and moving to the couch. There, he draped himself in the most dramatic of fashions.

You immediately looked over at Angel with an exasperated expression. Your attention turned to Charlie the moment she spoke up.  _ This was a disaster.  _

“What’s going on over here?” Charlie piped up, somehow managing to fit concern, confusion, and curiosity into one tone. You couldn’t possibly fake being uncomfortable even if you  _ tried.  _ You didn’t have to. 

Alastor didn’t seem to care about the mess, Niffty zooming past him, muttering about the broken glass. “So, how’s my dear employee doing?” He asked in a baby voice, clasping his claws together as if you were the  _ cutest damn thing.  _

Charlie made a face, frowning and shaking her head in disapproval before quickly and loudly scolding Angel for shattering the glass, preoccupied yet worriedly glancing over at Alastor and you, who was now leaning down and making an oddly affectionate face at you.

Angel began to prickle almost immediately, eyes wide and locked on your face. “Yep, yeah, sorry Chucks. ‘Ey, ‘ey, buckaroo! Back off, can’t’cha see yer weirdin’ her out?” He tried to keep his tone neutral,  _ sassy even,  _ but there was a small waver. Maybe toying with one of the most powerful demons Hell had ever seen wasn’t the smartest idea.  _ Dammit. Play it cool, girlie.  _ “Here, since I can’t drink, why don’t  _ you  _ have a drink?  _ Right?”  _ He desperately looked to you.

Your heart immediately began to pick up in pace when he stared down at you in a…  _ strange  _ manner. Rubbing your arm, averting your gaze and refusing him the satisfaction of meeting your eyes, you slide off of the stool and tossed a knowing glance to Angel who now looked like he was regretting his decisions. He had a front row seat of Alastor’s behavior, and you felt  _ relieved;  _ you began to walk away.

Alastor stared, eyes burning into your retreating form with something akin to displeasure. His claws flexed idly by his side as if they were to snatch you up at any moment, whisking you off to who knows where! “ _ Darling?”  _ That static-filled voice called, its ambience distorted slightly as if it were ruined by his rampant emotions --  _ his dissatisfaction.  _

Alastor’s voice, his nickname for you, made your stomach clench with nausea. You felt like you were going to be sick. You weren’t playing anymore. You didn’t  _ want  _ to play anymore.

After the prompt scolding Angel received, Charlie had come to your side, reaching out an arm, her soft voice soothing and full of comfort. When Charlie reached out to you, you were half tempted to latch yourself onto her like a leech and never let go.

Angel stood, shoving Nugs at Husk haphazardly before making his way after you. He ignored Alastor and Charlie, grabbing your arm gently with twitching fingers before he pulled you out of the room and down the hall. His long legs made nervous strides before he stopped abruptly. “What the hell did I tell ya? Twisted.  _ Crush.”  _ He fussed with his suit top and hair out of habit, muttering under his breath.

“I’m sorry, kid. I just.  _ Shit.  _ This is reaaal bad.”

You felt numb. Angel had been right and it was just now clicking with you. “I don’t--” You felt emotion well up in your eyes, “I  _ told  _ you, Angel; what do I do? I just, I can’t.  _ He has a crush on me.”  _ You laughed humorlessly, muttering under your breath. “A  _ crush.”  _ You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.  _ You couldn’t believe what was coming out of your own mouth. _ You were shivering.

Alastor  _ almost  _ visibly cringed, Charlie’s hand recoiling as she watched both Angel and you hurry down a corridor. The blonde frowned, not thinking much of it but certainly concerned. Alastor was almost tempted to approach the two again, an unheard neediness and clinginess swelled in his…  _ heart?  _ The likes of which hadn’t been seen; it was a want - a desire to be the one to so forcefull lead you; to grab that delicate arm and dig his claws into your flesh -  _ gently now -  _ no need to spoil such a dame, he’d already tarnished that poor neck with his little outburst. Alastor straightened out.  _ Oh, but the time would come.  _ He turned on his heel, sending Charlie a charming and almost flirtatious smile as he joined Niffty again, her rambunctiously applying wallpaper to the renovated room. A bounce in his step, a hum on his lips; a monocle adjusted and cleaned with a fine handkerchief…

Angel felt a bit of panic when he saw those tears.  _ Those fuckin’ tears.  _ He patted your shoulder lightly, an uncertain smile on his face. “Well… lookit this way, you have an extremely powerful demon lookin’ out for ya, haha.” His tone fell flat, and he drew his limbs close to himself, almost insecure. “Welcome to the party, toots. I’m… not sure what we’re gonna do now. Have you uh… talked to Chucks?”

You looked down the hall nervously, paranoid that he followed.  _ But there was nothing.  _ The air was silent, heavy, and you found yourself longing for the same jovial moments earlier. You wiped your eyes, sniffling. “Yeah, she spoke to him.” You looked back up to him. “I don’t think it changed anything.” Breathing out a heavy, emotional sigh, you leaned back against the wall. You were silent for a long while, thinking over everything.  _ You were at a loss.  _

Why did he like you? You were entirely certain there were far more powerful demon, more gorgeous demons than you. Demons that could give him the time of his life. Demons that could give him the life that he didn’t deserve. 

“Ah, well… shucks.” He looked uncomfortable, uncertain, trailing off and running his hand through his hair habitually. You shake your head. His compliment made  _ you  _ feel uncomfortable. 

“Can I stay with you tonight? I don’t-” you lowered your voice. “ _ I don’t feel comfortable in my room.” _

He stared at you like you had four heads, face contorting and showing an array of emotion before leaning his head back and groaning  _ loudly.  _ “Yer such a fuckin’  _ baby.”  _ He acted like it was the worst thing to ever happen before offering a very drawn out ‘fine’.

“But just tonight, ya hear? I ain’t yer babysitter.” He frowned.

_ “Okay.” _


	23. Light's Out!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are non-con elements & possible triggering descriptions/acts in this chapter! 
> 
> Come join our 18+ discord here!: https://discord.gg/wwFhrnM

The rest of the evening went on without a cinch to say the least. Perhaps for your own betterment or sanity, you had spent the majority of your time bonding with Fat Nuggets. You had come to discover that the pig was _ adorable_, originally not giving it the time of day; but now that you had, your heart soared. With time on your hands, you had taught the pig to sit and lie down on command; which Angel waved off with a _ ‘because he likes ya’ _ and _ not _ because you had spent the last few hours trying to teach a _ pig _ to do _ tricks. _

Angel wasn’t entirely _ present _ during the stay in his room; too coked out on an assortment of drugs that had originally been stashed beneath his bed, burying himself in habits that he had originally been clean of— _ you didn’t exactly blame him. _ It was a common theme around these parts, you guessed. While your mind was in such a delicate state, you had limited your actions to smaller, more _ manageable _ tasks lest your sanity collapse and spiral your existence even further out of control than it already was. 

_ What a story that would’ve been. _

Needless to say, you had done your best with keeping Alastor and the stress he put on you _ out _ of your mind, focusing on other activities to keep you busy. 

Sleep found you more delicately that night, curled into a mess of blankets and sheets that insulated you from the nipping cold just outside of the Hotel. Your rest _ would _ have gone undisturbed if it were not for the soft knocking against the door. Blinking blearily, your mind struggled with the sudden change from absence of consciousness to an overload of information being processed through your brain. 

You nearly brushed off the knocks as something your mind had fabricated to get you up, but when you noticed how _ dark _ it was in the room, you began to suspect otherwise. Eyes blinking a few times to adjust to the lack of light, you stared at the door with a frown. Another knock resounded from the other side, growing in intensity. “Angel.” You state softly, sitting up fully and promptly _ alert. _Loud snores were your only audible answer. 

_ “Angel,” _ you twist around and grab a pillow, throwing it at his sleeping silhouette. At the impact, he woke up with a flail of limbs, nearly falling off of the bed in the process. Fat Nuggets, who had been peacefully snoozing at the end of the bed, poked his head up and quietly oinked in a _ confused _manner. Perhaps the pig was smarter than it let on. 

“Wh_ -what? _ I will fuckin‘—“ Angel stated out of drowsiness, a string of drool still attached to his mouth. Snapping out of his daze, he glanced at the pillow and then at the offender: _ you. _ You were glad it was as dark as it was. You weren’t able to see the utterly _ pissed _expression adorning his features over the fact that you had disturbed his slumber. Before he could curse you out with a string of slurs, another loud knock was heard, successfully steering his attention to the mahogany door. 

He grumbled, wiping the drool off of his mouth with a fist. _ “What!?” _ He snapped_, _ his pissiness seeping into the single exclaim.

You winced, almost _ expecting _ the voice that answered: “Is my employee in there?” Angel doesn’t answer, staring blankly in either disbelief or stupor. You ran your hands down your face with a groan. Alastor, however, didn’t seem to be finished with his inquiries, and with each word he spoke, it made it easier to believe he was outside the door. “Where’d she go? You _ must _ let me in, I need to speak to her.” 

You grimaced, eyebrows knitting together and holding the blanket up to you as if to offer _some _form of comfort. 

Angel glanced at you with raised eyebrows. “No, _ go away.” _ He fell back onto the bed and pushed the pillow that assaulted him to his face, attempting to drown out the knocks that _continued. _ Sighing, rubbing your eyes sleepily, you pick yourself up and walk over to the door, hesitating only for a moment before ripping it open and staring at the _ annoying _ persistent individual that towered in the doorframe. His fist was lifted as if he had been ready to knock _ again. _

“It is-“ you bring your hand down, leaning back to look at the alarm clock. “_-four _ in the morning, Alastor, _ what?” _ Your grumpiness came through your words, annoyed that he was not only bothering you, but waking you up at an ungodly hour. You just wanted to _ sleep. _ Drowsily, you watched his expression twist into something _giddy and happy _when he saw you. 

_ “HEL-“ _

You slammed the door in his face before he could finish the obnoxious greeting, retreating to your makeshift bed of comfortable blankets and otherwise. You _ knew _ he wasn’t there for anything important, so you _ didn’t care. _ You couldn’t catch a break. He was utterly and completely _ ridiculous. _ Angel was already snoring and, before long, you were also eagerly swept into a dreamless sleep; lulled into a false promise of safety and comfort. If only it would last. 

_ It didn’t_. 

From your sound slumber, you had been awoken to the sensation of dampness on your face; snuffles emitting from the culprit. You bat a hand away at said offender lazily and without real motive. Your expression twisted into a grimace before relaxing and, the moment you had begun to drift back into your sleep, it started up again; now accompanied by _oinking_. The sight that greeted you first was the ceiling; red light seeping in from the window positioned upon the wall to your right. _ Daybreak. Morning. _

The second thing you noticed when you flickered your eyes instinctively down was the door that was ajar _ just slightly_. Rubbing your eyes and releasing a yawn, you peered over at the _ thing _ that had woken you. Your first thought was turning it into bacon; spurred on by your annoyance of being woken up against your own will. The thoughts were without heated intensity; leaving your mind almost instantaneously when you realized the pig gave the impression of being _ excited _to see you. 

_ It was an endearing little creature. _

You breathed out in amusement; reaching over to rub Fat Nuggets behind its floppy ear. It oinked happily, the spiraled tail twitching slightly. “Hey bud,” you whispered softly, tiredly, affectionately watching it shake it’s behind like a dog would, a gentle smile playing on your lips as the pig toddled over, rubbing against you with similar mannerisms of a _ cat. _ The quirks it had never ceased to amaze you; it _ looked _ like a pig, but it acted like every lovable creature you had ever encountered. _ Adorable. _

You didn’t want to move. You were _ content. _ Plus, while the floor was surprisingly comfortable— you had also made a friend. 

Unfortunately, the sweet moment didn’t last too long; you would have been perfectly fine with laying there for the rest of the eternity you had left to endure if it were not for Angel’s voice calling for Fat Nuggets down the hall. Said pig wiggled out of your grip with a happy squeal, and you watched as it darted out of the room and out of view. You sighed, pulling the warm and comfortable blanket off of you before grabbing the comfortable attire you had situated beside you. After your trip to your room the previous night, you had changed into pajamas and, as quick as you could, grabbed a change of clothes out of the closet. 

Oh, the wonders of being harassed enough to be wary of your own _ closet. _

Getting changed in record time because of the very real possibility of Angel walking back into his own room, you stretched, and pulled the door open further with a _ creak_. It took a moment of navigating than you normally would have, considering the fact that you had been used to your normal route, but you eventually made it into the main entrance to the lobby. The light that filtered in from the stained glass windows would have been considered beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that you were met with an all-too chipper individual situated just at the bottom of the stairs. 

_ He was waiting for you. _

When you _ finally _ showed face, Alastor noted your almost _ disappointed _ expression with seeing him. He had stated he would give you space, certainly, but he hadn’t promised _ how long. _ “Rise and shine, my _ darling _ employee!” He exclaimed in a positively _ delighted _ tone; passive-aggressive with his words to bring attention to the fact that you were _ late. _ Sleeping in, you would claim, but oh no— you had duties to attend to. His arms opened as if expecting a _ hug, _ or perhaps just to accentuate his greeting. _ As if he didn’t already exaggerate his physical motions. _

You stared at him for a long moment, still waiting for your brain to fully comprehend waking up. You didn’t respond, ducking past him with a heavy sigh. At least you had been right about him not leaving you alone for too long, much to your disappointment. Not having a particular appetite, you saved such dining for a later hour, walking over to the broom that had been situated against the wall, ironically gathering dust. Alastor’s presence followed you.

“My dear, would you like to hear a joke?” 

“_ Nope.” _You countered sharply enough that you surprised even yourself. 

“Why was the broom late?” He positioned himself next to you, sorrowfully reminding you that he would not consider leaving you alone lest you humor him even by the most meager amounts. Your shoulders slumped, another yawn escaping your lips. Why were you so _ tired? _Oh, that’s right. 

You narrowed your eyes at the reminder that he had disturbed your sleep. “Why?” You finally gave in with a sigh, waiting for the punchline that he would most likely give you that would make you want to internally combust. 

“It _ overswept!” _ An audience laugh-track echoed in the close vicinity, a string of _ ’ha’s’ _ escaping him as if he truly thought his joke had been the bee's knees. You looked up at him, lip twitching because _ okay, it was sort of funny. _

“Are you a banker?” You inquired innocently. 

“Hm, I don’t think so!”

You leaned up to him, squinting: “because I’d like you to leave me _ a loan.” _ Deadpanning, you turned to inspect your broom idly. Of course, it had the opposite effect, Alastor bursting into loud, boisterous laughter that made you wince. _ It was too early for this. _ Except, it wasn’t. You looked at the clock situated upon the wall, the time reading that it was half-past noon. _ Ah, well. _ You blinked slowly, turning your attention back to Alastor the moment he finished his request for _ another _ joke. _ Oh, he knew it irritated you _. 

Your eye twitched, suddenly standing on your toes to peer past him with a gasp. “Do you see that?” You state, pointing in a direction _ away _ from you in hopes he would turn around and give you _ just _ enough time to make your escape. There was nothing out of the ordinary and there wouldn’t _ be _anything either. 

He turned around and you whisked your broom off of the wall, making a break for it. After a long moment of Alastor attentively watching for _ something, _he spoke up, beginning to turn back around: 

“Oh? But there doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary—“ You were across the room, sweeping away. He felt _ disappointment _swell inside of him, but he eventually did get the memo, remaining motionless for a moment.

Taking the initiative to look back at him, you nearly screamed when he appeared _ directly _in front of you. Instead, for your own sake, you released a sharp gasp, taking a few steps back and grasping at the broom as if it were your lifeline. 

“That’s mighty _ rude_, don’t you think?” He inquired, feigning a tone of _ sadness. _ “We can’t have employees acting like that!” When you looked up at him, you were met with the smuggest expression you had ever seen in your life. 

A flurry of jumbled and only slightly annoyed mumbles escaped your lips - pursed and ready to spill whatever nonsense you’d been bottling up. Shrugging off his _ casual harassment, _ you’d brought your trusty friend closer, perhaps as a means to be armed. _ However, _ the utter horror that struck when the broomhead simply _ detached _sent a most unfathomable sorrow though your heart.

“Aw _ man,” _ you curse, picking up the remnants of your partner. The attempts of reattachment were fruitless, the mourning that followed filled with this quaint sadness and melancholy - manifesting themselves into a harsh frown as if truly, _ a friend had passed. _

It had been with you since the beginning, you recall, your first days in _ Hell, _ at this _ Hotel _, were made lighter by the busyness of work and the accompaniment of the broom. Your angst seemed childish, but it was the sentiment that preceded such a notion… Like a corpse, the broken item was dragged behind you in the most dramatic of fashions as a red devil followed in tandem, pivoting his head to gander at the cause of your helplessness.

The heartbreak that came with the loss encompassed you, your thoughts - and you threw open a door into the most dust-clad, sorrowful room you’d come to know; idle, secluded in the backend of the bar for others to forget about. Mostly used for storage, boxes both neatly stacked and torn ajar lay scattered amongst the metal-beamed shelves.

It was _ small, _ smelling of mothballs and contained only one very, _ very _ dim light - or, _ perhaps _ influenced by the harsh light that invaded through the entry; you’d stuck a nearby doorstopper and prayed, a _ demon _leering over your shoulder.

His hair jostled you, proximity close enough to fall near your shoulder and tickle - _ an annoyance to be sure, _but certainly welcome in comparison to his usual antagonizing. 

He crept - no, _ slithered - _to your side like a spindly shadow, closer still. A sharp gasp followed, disembodied audiences manifested in the darkness while you were yet reminded of your burden. 

Your face hardened, “Oh, _ dear--” _ those large, doe-like eyes stood perplexed, “what’s happened to your friend there, _ my darling?” He almost seemed concerned. _

“Why, that’s a mighty disappointment indeed…”

Hands grasped the handle you’d once happily wielded during the combat of cleaning, tightening until a dull ache blossomed in your palm and knuckles turned white. 

_ Insufferable _ was a good term for him - truly a demon, an annoyance and danger to be sure; so _ mocking, _ his enigmaticness knew no bounds. You’d not dare to open your mouth, lest your mind snapped at the seams or insults pooled on your tongue; your last thread was indeed _ frayed. _

Busying anger with something more productive, you’d set to work and departed from _ Alastor’s _crooked form - but like a parasite, he followed with a light and bouncy step, so unlike your own. 

_ Tape, tape, tape - where’s the damn tape? _He stared owlishly while your hands scrambled through and against the clutter than lined the furnishings, angersome in your actions only enticed his curiosity whilst the uncomfortably odd cocking of his head followed by the raising of brow - internally praising him for those illuminating eyes. 

You’d caught him from the corner of your eye, a slight and soundless movement as his ear twitched in the general direction of the lobby, _ he _narrowed his eyes.

_ ‘BOOM’ _

The tape now a figment of your memory that had been long forgotten, you nearly hit your head on the top of the shelf, too deep into the boxes in your endless search to accurately determine such distances. The Hotel quaked, foundations trembling at the substructure of their placement. Releasing an abrupt yell, you pulled your hand out of the box, grasping onto the metal pole of said shelf for support. 

_ A turf war? _

Your eyes were wide with confusion and alarm, the reverberation throughout the entirety of the facility causing the door stopper to shift _ just slightly. _ The door, heavy in its expensive structure, did the rest of the undertaking, setting the following moments into action as the creaking suddenly ended with an audible ‘ _ click’; _successfully shrouding the room in complete and utter darkness. 

You straighten up instantaneously, bumping into a hard form— _ Alastor_, before pulling away, lack of light disorienting you. What light there _ was _ just happened to originate from the slit beneath the door that had _ betrayed _you. 

_ Silence, _ but soon followed the jingling of a mechanical thing - _ the trying of a doorknob _ cutting through the atmosphere and disorientating your thoughts, a very noticeable franticness in the sound as failure ended its attempts. A defeat - a _ sigh _came from your lips.

_ “Well,” _ His tone was even, though giddiness ran rampant underneath as if he _ wanted _ such a scenario to happen; a perfect excuse to present to Charlie! _ “This is a fine mess!” _

You glowered.

He turned - _ you could see his eyes - _ peering and full of delight while you only sent a grumpy and quizzical look towards him; you’d made an attempt to seem questioning through your actions, unwilling to speak with an _ asshat of biblical proportions. _

_ “It’s locked.” _

Those few words shattered your expression and the remnants of the hopeful outlook you took regarding the latter part of the day; you’d had plans to _ relax, _ rid yourself of the crippling pressure that this… _ hazbin Hell _ so kindly bestowed upon you. _ But that fleeting moment of happiness was ripped from your grasp. _You stared blankly.

_ The only one who had the key was Charlie, and she was out on a date with Vaggie. _

Silence was the only thing that was shared in that moment; and if he had quipped something smart, you would have combusted into a million pieces right then and there. The static that caressed your flesh reminded you of just _who _exactly you were locked in with. Your luck was such shit. Letting your eyes adjust to the absence of light; you mull over the events that led to here in the first place. _The broom, the closet, light bulb, door stopper, tape, explosion. _

You paused, recalling the fact that there was indeed a hanging light. Standing on your toes, you reach up and hesitantly pull down the chain; hoping for the best but expecting the worst. The light was exceedingly _ dim, _offering little to no relief for the shadows that plagued the small room. Despite expecting the worst, you couldn't help but feel the inkling of disappointment begin to make headway. You lowered yourself back on the soles of your feet,

“I suppose that could _ lighten _ up the mood.” Alastor piped up, his pun making you turn your attention to him and stare as if he had four heads. The bastard wasn’t taking this situation seriously; which meant he didn’t have an inkling of worry. Which meant he _ didn’t _ care. _ Which meant he was pleased with the outcomes. _Your fingers twitched at your sides.

“Can’t you… can’t you do some sort of hoodoo voodoo and get _ us _ out?” You were entirely too tempted to just say ‘me’, considering the fact that you would have absolutely locked him inside if you had the opportunity. You didn’t. Your voice didn’t hold the confidence you were known to have; exhaustion plaguing your mind from his constant _ game. _

He chuckled, the resounding noise far more ominous than usual due to the odd architecture of the room; sounds bouncing off of the walls and throwing off his location. You were frightened and annoyed, but mostly tired of his _ shit. _

“Well, well, _ well—“ _ He tapped a claw to his mouth, that grin just about giving off an illumination in itself, lantern-like and warm. You watched as his large eyes wandered around the room, either searching for something or looking for an _ excuse, “ _This room is proofed!” 

_ Fucking bullshit. _

You narrowed your eyes at him, having a silent conniption at his antics as he stared at you oh, so innocent; like a deer in headlights. _ He was such a liar. _“You didn’t even try!” Your arms flew out from your sides, hitting a metal shelf with a loud thrumming sound. Instantly, you brought your wrist back to yourself, rubbing it with a frown. If your frown could have gotten any deep, it would have. 

_ You were not happy. _

_ “Oh, _ why the unhappy face?” Alastor cooed, the smallest semblance of those claws approaching from the shadows, threatening to poke at your face in a maternal fashion - “You _ could _ be stuck in here with someone worse, _ imagine that! _ ” He laughed that infamous posh laugh, throwing his head back in such a manner as if he were all too aware that this _ was _the worst-case scenario.

You squinted at the feeling of a ghosting presence near your face, not exactly _ touching _ you, but almost. Without the ability to lean back further without literally cracking your head into the wall (and let’s face it, it would have been a better way to go than _ this), _ you attempted to side-step him, the memories of being cornered _ before _inducing your heart to pick up in pace dramatically.

With those large, stupid ears of his, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he _ heard it. _

“Chances of finding someone worse than you is like hitting the lottery,” you muttered under your breath, easing up the frown. It had managed to get to a point that it began to hurt your jaw. You brought your index finger and thumb to the bridge of your nose, rubbing it in small circles as if to ease the headache that had become a _ reality, _and was standing directly in front of you. Trapped.

You were trapped in a _ closet _ with _ Alastor. _

Said asshat laughed again, his claws motioning you to shoo as if you were too funny for him, “_ And there it is! _ That comedy only you can bring! Those crude remarks that I— we can't _ all _ help but _ love!” _Alastor made a small motion with his hand, the very atmosphere springing to life as he conjured the microphone; holding it to that splitting grin as if he were announcing this to a large audience. 

His voice glitched midway assuming that there had been an audio cut, his speech diced to better fit a narrative he so wanted you to believe. You could tell he was attempting to keep his touchiness to a minimum, those claws preoccupying themselves by hiding behind his back in _ such _an orderly fashion. He stared at you expectantly on the assumption that you would reward him with a smartass quip.

_ You were having the week that came from hell. _

“Why do you—“ you stressfully brought your hand to the top of your head, running your fingers through your hair, “you know what, _ nevermind.” _ You release a heavy exhale, eyes flickering to the light above you as it grew dimmer, shrouding the two of you even further into the pits of darkness. You looked back over to him, wary of keeping him out of your peripheral vision; zoning in on his microphone. You tilted your head slightly as if said motion would give you all the answers you ever desired and more.

He could summon a microphone; he could make the television remote disappear, he could make your phone vanish and appear in his hand—

You gasped loudly as if returning from an epiphany. “Charlie has the key. Do the-“ you snapped your fingers, “the _ thing _ you did with my phone!” For a moment your actions became sporadic, _ excited _ by the possibility that he _ could _do something like that. You were excited because if he did, you could get out of here. 

He rolled his eyes in amusement, adjusting that monocle and peering at you, “Can’t.” Alastor casted a child-like smile at you, exhilarated at the promise of your furious answer. He leaned forward and decided to make matters worse: “_ My darling, _ hadn’t you heard what I said? The room is proofed, I tell you! Nothing can be done outside of the confines of it… only _ inside.” _He snapped his fingers, the clutter and contents of the room immediately rearranging themselves neatly. 

Can’t. He _ couldn’t. _ He just _ summoned a fucking microphone and he couldn’t? _ When he rearranged the contents of the room, almost ironically, the already dim light _ went out. _His eyes and teeth highlighted your face. 

_ This day just got worse and worse. _

As if giving you clarity on the situation, the thought of this _ bastard _ having a crush on you made an _ idea _ pop into your head. You remained quiet for a long moment, staring directly at him. Taking what was given to you from how his light illuminated the space around him and faintly allowed you to see his _ collar, _you reached up without a thought of resistance or care for your own safety and attempted to yank him down to your level.

“You know what _ I really want?” _ You lowered your voice into a whisper, your eyelids heavy in an almost _ seductive _ way, despite the absolute _ rage _ that caused you to do such things. Leaning closer, you ghosted your lips over his before glancing up to meet his eyes, a feigned grin toying upon them.

“_I want to kick your teeth in. _” You released him, deadpanning and turning to try to sort through the reorganized boxes for a light bulb. 

Only the sharp and piercing sound of a microphone graced the unholy silence that followed, the air filled with both confusion and static as he stared at _ utterly nothing. _

Alastor turned his head to you suddenly, neck cracking loudly, causing you to jump slightly with a grimace. “_Don’t.” _ He managed to choke out, apparently both surprised and speechless at your confusion words and actions, “_Oh— _you shouldn’t do that!” He tried to cover up that fleeting moment of seriousness. 

He turned away from you as if contemplating something, muttering low to himself. That odd, new habit he picked up arose again, flexing his claws. He peered over his shoulder at you.

Oh, you probably shouldn’t have felt it, but the pride that swelled in your chest at the fact that you caught him by surprise _and _hopefully made him respect your boundaries, caused you to give a tight-lipped _smug smile. _

“Don’t what?” You replied innocently enough, you supposed. The cracking of his neck had frightened you, sure, but you tied it to his surprise, shrugging it off easily. You sorted through the boxes blindly, feeling as assortment if bottles, rags, and other cleaning supplies. _ Not that box then. _You side-stepped to the next one quietly.

Alastor sighed dramatically, attempting to rid himself out of whatever daze you had gotten him in. With a few strides, he stood tall behind you.”I don’t appreciate people touching me. Remember my five-foot rule!” He reminded thoughtfully, grasping his microphone defensively. 

You felt a sharp and stabbing pain, claws tracing themselves along your shoulder, grasping tightly onto you in some sort of episodic conniption. You hissed as they dug into your flesh, pausing in your efforts to stiffen as you felt him lean in, his breath tickling your ear.

“_But you don’t have a five-foot rule, do you?” _ He asked slowly, that smugness returned to his tone as he attempted to take control of the situation once more. 

“...If I had one, you wouldn’t care,” you winced, leaning forward and searching through the boxes, sorting through the appliances sightlessly. You rolled your shoulders in an attempt to get him off of you, finally looking over your shoulder and craning your head up to look at him, “_would you? _” You narrowed your eyes before turning away from him again, standing on your toes to pull down a cardboard box from a higher shelf, despite the discomfort it caused.

He started to lean his weight onto you, breathing down your neck: “_ No, _ I don’t think I would,” he whispered in a distorted voice, “in fact… _ it’s more fun when you want me to back off,” _ he sighed, “But _ oh, _ how can I resist those large eyes and that pleading look you give me? Darling…” Alastor placed another hand on your shoulder, his microphone nowhere to be seen, “ _ you’re so cute—“ _

You were going to kill him. You didn’t care if he was already dead. You were going to do it again. You clenched your fingers around the cardboard box, chills running up your spine when he breathed on you. Hands still searching through said box that held more promise than the others; your fingers ghosted over what _ felt _ like glass, though not having the same bulbous shape. Your heart rate continued to speed up nervously at his proximity of quite literally pressing against you. _ He had gotten off of you when you touched him. _ Angel _ told you to touch him_. 

He didn’t get to win like this. _ Treat you like this. _ Reaching behind you, you exposed your palm and grabbed his face, pushing him away: “You said a five-foot_ rule, _ right?” 

He didn’t make a sound, his _ poor hair _ tarnished beyond repair - making a vain attempt to fix the unkempt you had cursed him with. His monocle was promptly adjusted, brushing himself down with somewhat of a huff before _ seizing you, _ clutching you in his arms _ tightly. _ “Oh! But that was _ my rule!” _ He sang, “_You _must follow it!” He placed a claw to your nose brattily, his other arm practically encompassing your form as it hung over your shoulder, he tuts.

When he grabbed you, your heart dropped into your stomach, eyes wide and a gasp falling from your lips. “Get _ off.” _You hissed out, trying to pry yourself out of his grip fruitlessly. You couldn’t do anything, so you relied on your words as your defense.

His ear twitched as he heard footsteps from above them, head pivoting upwards; that brilliant red cutting through the dust-clad darkness, his features _ alone _illuminating,

Angel’s voice was muffled yet distinguishable, apparently bullshitting with someone or _ something; _ the oink that followed was endearing at the very least, but enticed a noticeably harder grip from Alastor - holding you tightly, _ like a child - _ he didn’t want to give up his _toy_, his _ favorite _little thing in the whole damn underworld. 

The moment you heard Angel, you brought your leg up and slammed your foot down on his shoe, taking the initiative to yell out the arachnid demon’s name in hopes for a savior. 

Alastor hissed, his claws retracting from you as he took a moment to collect himself; he knew he’d gotten a _ bit _ carried away, so he stood back for a moment as if he understood Angel couldn’t— or _ wouldn’t _ do a thing. Anger was not found in his body; annoyance the only thing that plagued him. He enjoyed playing with his food and _ adored _when it played back, the entire ordeal more of an entertainment to him than an actual harassment. 

He side-eyed you, gazing at those claws dangerously, pretending that he wasn’t or _ didn’t _do anything wrong.

You craned your head to look up at the ceiling. With the footsteps stopping momentarily, Angel's irritating and muffled voice was barely audible; a flummoxed jumble of words from above. Then, like music to your ears, there came a merry oink, accompanied by the loud snorts of a certain marvelous pig. _ Oh, that stupid, wonderful pig. _

"I'm down here, bud!" You called, a sensation of hope that it would lure the beautiful creature towards your location _ somehow _.

The noise apparently alerted the arachnid demon to your current, _ unfavorable _ whereabouts. Until another voice bearing a husky and gruff tone that could barely be heard, annoyed, but curious. _ Husk? _ Your brows furrowed, squinting into the darkness. _ Was Husk up there too? _

Fat Nuggets was rarely separated from his master for any magnitude of time. It was that hope that allowed you to imagine a future in which you would be freed from the confines of the damn closet and live to see another day. Navigating your vision towards the sound of snuffling that originated directly above you, you released an exasperated sigh when it was cut off into silence; the sound of the Hotel settling the only ambiance following. 

Fueled with a determination and desire to be released from the hellhole you found yourself in, you shot Alastor a pissed-off glance, the search for a light bulb continuing. Hands dug into the box once more, you hovered over a few glass-like objects until the bulbous shape of your goal caught your attention. Fingertips drifting over it a couple of times to ensure what you were feeling wasn’t a mirage but the real deal; you released a soft sigh of relief, closing your eyes for the longest of moments and holding onto that foreign feeling of reassurance.

_ Truly, your own excitement could have lit up the room. _

With thrill buzzing at your flesh at the notion of a possibility that you would be able to finally see the bastard properly with your own two eyes, you pulled your arm out of the box without any regard or awareness that it was a box _ full of glass_. 

A sudden and sharp pain shot through your hand, intense enough to grab your own in some primal act of reassurance or defense - the lightbulb, your only harbinger of safety - mishandled, dropped to the floor and _ shattered _in moments discord, loud enough to elicit a wince for a variety of reasons.

You could _ feel _the warmth of your own blood trickle down your palm, heavy on your hand; how it dripped from between your fingertips, falling with an audible and echoing sound that consumed the room.

A cry escaped you, but there was no assurance - no aid to wrap you in a clean bandage and tell you it was going to be okay, _ there was only silence _ and the peering eyes of that _ demon. _

_ That demon, _ whose ears twitched only at your anguish, his eyes squinting at this new dismay that overtook you; he _ relished _ in your pain, tasted it in the air and _ smelled it on your skin_. For the first time today, _ which was a feat in itself, _ a grin split his face, failing to conceal the hostility he harbored and aggressiveness that threatened to snap from his now _ drooling _ maw. 

_ Oh, _ when you’d caught his eyes - utterly bloodthirsty and full of this… _ lust _ completely foreign and alien to you, their glow seemed to only grow more vibrant, wilder as his large form towered over you - he was effective in his cornering, subtle to trap you against the metal shelves that lined the walls. His gaze on your wound like a starved beast, neck angled in such a painful position, said neck sickeningly cracking as he’d craned himself down to peer further, _ closer _ at the sweet, crimson nectar that fled from your wound - _ you could feel his breath_, the lantern glow of his grin and bright, menacing red of his eyes illuminating your _ trembling _form. 

In attempts to distance yourself, albeit only slightly, you’d turned your head to its side to press your cheek against the cool metal; _ he was salivating, _ you’d finally noticed, _ he was going to eat you. _

Your pulse quickened, heart desperately thrumming in your chest as it was only pure ecstasy in _ Alastor’s _ mind - _ he’s gone mad, by such a simple thing? _ He licked his lips - he’s been _ craving _this.

The slightest movement, the smallest most futile, pathetic attempts to escape were vain as he all too eagerly established his proximity - _ leaning down, _ his hair tickled your face as those claws clasped over your wrist - you winced. _ He wanted it to hurt, he wanted to see you squirm. _

He’d noticed your wound threatening to clot up, relinquishing him of that _ fountain of youth; _ he only squeezed harder as if trying to coax more from the small gash. You cried again, pitiful in your tone, prompting his hungry gaze to flicker to _ your face _this time - a hue adorned his face.

But it could’ve perhaps been from the lighting; if it were true, _ and you wouldn’t be surprised - _ it was a most sick and twisted thing, a _ blush, _caused purely by the pain you’d witnessed.

_ He was sadistic. _

Your stomach clenched in uncertainty and _fear_, his grip so painfully tight that you released a whine; being paralyzed without the ability to move; circulation in your hand minuscule as he successfully caused your palm to swell with blood; continuing to drip through the spaces of your fingers and onto the floor.

“You’re _ hurting _ me.” Your voice was soft_, _bringing your other hand to try to pry his grip off of you.

He said nothing, that infatuated and almost hypnotic expression dominated his features, your pleas falling on deaf or uncaring ears as his lips ghosted over your flesh, lightly dipping his lips into the blood like it was some sort of cruel sample; pushing your smaller form into the shelf further, his demeanor seemed _ perplexed. Infatuation _lingered in his eyes.

He released a heavy sigh, similar to a _ moan, _coercing his desire further from your wound.

_ You watched in horror as the next moments played out, too helpless and frightened to fight him. _

Mouth clamping over the wound greedily, his tongue almost _ hesitant _ to indulge in such a treat, and yet, the warm and uncomfortably _ wet _ appendage slithered over the wound in an act of harassment that wouldn’t be forgotten, a violation of sorts as he squeezed your poor wrist tighter. His other arm coming to soothe those whimpers with an elegant hand, affectionately rubbing your opposite arm in some form of comforting gesture, his sharp claws careful and soft against your flesh as his mouth was anything but - acting a leech, his teeth grazed your skin with a harshness akin to _ ferality. _

You leaned your head back against the shelf beam in an effort to get further away, the agonizing pain engulfing your thoughts as you tried to place yourself _ anywhere but here. _ He was licking your hand. _ Drinking your blood_. You felt nauseated, _ gross. Violated. _They were rough movements, intent on keeping the wound open as he leeched off of you.

_ “Al, please…” _ you whined, rivulets of tears beginning to fall down your cheeks, staining them most _deliciously_. Your thoughts were racing, heart slamming into your ribcage; it wasn’t just a crush. _ He was completely and utterly obsessed with you_. Your vision was blurred and, truthfully, you were glad that it was. _ You didn’t want to see him, see this act of violation he performed. _

He grinned up at you, revealing those sharp teeth stained with blood - _ your _ blood, as he licked them with a satiated sigh, “No, no, _ no - this won’t do,” _ Alastor muttered with such manic _glee _ , lifting himself to properly face you; you were unsure what he was referring to, but you’d felt that soft handkerchief tending to your tears, his _ smile _twisted maniacally before settling again to your wound.

He stared at it for a moment before his gaze flickered up to find yours; attempting to offer something akin to reassurance upon his expression but failing miserably. 

A moment passed - he, in deep thought and seemingly conflict. Another _ emotion _ this time swelling from behind his grin, perhaps the only truth in his facade. _ Guilt, _albeit only the smallest and minuscule amount. 

Snapping his fingers the room was once more filled with that dim glow - _ he repaired the light_, “Lights on!” he announced curtly, “... now, where is that medical kit? Can’t have _ our _ employee bleeding on the carpets!” he covered himself, the urge and now habit of referring to such a darling as _ my _ played on his tongue. He turned again, bloodied mouth still present as he chipperily began to search for mentioned medical kit.

You felt like you were going to _ faint. _ You leaned against the shelf for support, grabbing at the metal with your unwounded hand. When he turned the light back on, you barely noticed; too _ dumbfounded and numb _ over what just happened. Vulgar. Disgusting. _ Vile. An abomination. _ “ _ Evil.” _ You whisper oh so softly under your breath as he continued to search for _ something. _ You weren’t exactly all _ there. _

For your own sake, you were glad you were dazed. Bringing your hand to you, you detached from the shelf and stared down at the deep indentations that he made with his own tongue and teeth. It still bled, no doubt from his vandalization of your hand. 

“I don’t want to play your game anymore,” you spoke up suddenly, surprising yourself, tears continuing to stream down your face despite his wicked efforts of appeasement only moments ago. 

He turned with a flourish, presenting the kit in such a manner it seemed like a gift descended from the heavens. he blinked a few times as if surprised, a wry smile coming to his lips, “_Game?” _he played with the idea, thoughtfully humming as his proud strides brought him inside your personal bubble once more.

“Why, this isn’t a game! _ Darling, look--” _ Alastor takes your hand gently this time, but upon your attempts to jerk it back he only stared as if you were a misbehaving child. _ “Hmmm…” _ his tone was lower and displeased, but the gauze and alcohol he presented seemed to soothe your woes if only hardly. He stared expectantly at you as he tipped the alcohol onto a fresh cotton pad, staring through those bambi lashes, “I need your arm, _ dear.” _

Staring at the bottle of alcohol, the cotton pad, then his outstretched hand, you gave him the _ last _ bit of trust you had in hopes that he wouldn’t tear your arm off and serve it on a silver platter. Entirely embarrassed and numb, you begrudgingly gave him your arm. “Then _ whatever _ it is! _ My _ darling, _ my _ dear, _ my _ employee, _ my _entertainment.” You looked up at him; your frown a direct opposite of his eternal smile. 

“_I am not yours.” _

He rolled his eyes and tended to your wound, watching the small wince that came with the alcohol contact. Alastor raised a brow, _ “Of course.” _ he replied happily, waiting a moment before wiping down the wound and applies something to the gauze before fastening it to your hand. “ _ You know…” _ he states, flattening down the large bandage gently, “You get into a lot of trouble! _ I almost feel sorry for you. _”

You stared up at him like he had five heads. “I mean it, I’m _ done. _ Whatever sick pleasure you get from _ this _ — it’s _ done.” _ You were fed up with him completely and utterly, even when he brushed off your statement. You narrowed your eyes, taking your hand back hesitantly and inspecting the bandages as if expecting a _ tracking device _ to be under the bandages. You were paranoid, but rightfully so. You doubted if you put the idea in his mind he would be able to pass up such a thing. You decided to stay silent until he spoke up again. “You know,” you mocked him, “it’s almost like I get hurt because of _ you.” _

His retaliation was nothing but an amused squint, the following moments of you inspecting your hand caused him to take action, “_Ah, ah ah,” _ he wagged a claw at you condescendingly, your hand snatched back into the hands of a _ psychopath. _

_ “It’s not done yet.” _ he drawled and you couldn’t help but utterly dread what was to come next. A soft, _ warm _ thing was pressed against your bandage, _ his lips _ as he kissed where he injured worse; a perhaps genuine show of affection that lingered for many moments. It was fascinating how a _ demon _could be so delicate. He recoiled then, holding your hand as he flashed a charming smile,

“_Now, it is done.” _

Despite your emotions in utter turmoil and being about a second away from having a _ meltdown _ , when you saw him lean his head down to press his lips to your hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. It was something that was foreign; strange, _ unwelcome. _ You passed it as nervousness because _ that’s what it was. _ He never ceased to confuse you, to have you guessing what he would do next; a true enigma to mankind— _ to you. _

There was a long, uncomfortable silence during the act, your shoulders slumping as if too _ tired _ to keep them stiffened, lest your muscles spasm and just _ collapse. _“Al,” 

He stared at you with those eyes, “Oh? I was expecting the silent treatment again…” Alastor commented, holding a hand to his mouth as if stifling laughter, “But, _ please _continue.” He brushes himself down yet again to preoccupy himself.

You remain quiet for the longest of moments; long enough for him to begin to wonder if you were ever going to answer. “I know.” You state simply, looking up to him as if he would _ know _what you were referring to. 

He looked away for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly when they met yours yet again, “You know… ?” was all he said for a moment, “_ My recipe?” _ He asked thoughtfully, but his tone was full of manipulation as he tried to divulge your thoughts or play innocent, “Darling, _ it is _difficult to understand what you’re referring to!”

“You know, it’s funny. Because I don’t think _ you _ even know why you mess with me so much.” You were going to fish it out of him if it were the last thing you ever did— it was the _ one thing _ you held above him. His delirious interest in _ you. _

“Why you can’t get away from me. Why I slept in _ Angel’s room _last night.” You crossed your arms with a sigh. 

He leaned in, “I think I know quite well why I jab you so; you’re so _ entertaining, _ full of all the reactions I crave _ and more, _always a player in my games when the need arises, an avid source of playfulness.” Alastor’s lidded gaze greeted you, “Isn’t it obvious?” He chuckled.

_ Oh, it was so obvious. _ “You,” you leaned in, narrowing your eyes back at him. “Are _ such a terrible liar.” _ Perhaps you could have fun with this; you could mess with him a bit longer— have him chase after the answer like some _ dog _after a toy ball. 

For the first time, you _ smiled _ at him— he was so _ proud _ that he couldn’t see the answer he was literally _ giving himself _ with his own actions. Blinded by a desire to keep his twisted entertainment. Your smile, however, wasn’t because of _ him, _it was because you had the ball in your field and you weren’t letting it go anytime soon.

He only inspected his claws, feigning a disinterest for a moment, “A _ terrible liar? _Why, the blood loss must be making you delirious--” he comments smugly, “Perhaps you need something to eat? Some rest? Maybe then you’ll stop making foolish accusations.” Alastor hummed, his rather rude comment thrown by his happy tone.

“_Oh, Alastor,” _ you grinned now, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how big you were smiling. _ Oh, this was too good. “I know something you don’t~” _ You sang.

“You _ think _you do,” he argued, his tone a tad frustrated with your behavior. Alastor scoffed, a shit-eating grin splits his face as his claws grab at your face for the umpteenth time - “If you’re so sure, why don’t you tell me?” he inquired in a cool tone.

You released a soft giggle, “Oh, you are so,” you leaned in, even with him holding your face, “_ so…” _ Hold it for a dramatic pause. When you saw his face, you realized he _ really _ didn’t know. You sighed, coming off of your laughter high, pausing and letting the smile drift off of your face with an air of silence. _ He really didn’t know. _

“Alastor, you’re _ infatuated _ with me_." _

His smile broke into a million pieces, that wonderfully _ fun _ moment ruined by that statement. Staring at your face with a mix of horror and utter shock as if questioning both himself and the reality he was faced with - _ silent, _ for once. Those hands that once grasped your face trembled slightly as if you’d struck fear in his heart with those words. Alastor was _ caving, _ but you’d not gotten to see the outcome of such events as he’d almost snatched himself away from your form as if you’d _ burned _him. 

He looked at you no longer, his posture stiff and impossibly quick to retreat from the closet. _ The door was supposed to be locked, _but when Alastor had demanded freedom it gave, the beautiful light from outside silhouetting his tall form as he soundlessly exited the room, leaving the door ajar as silence followed in his wake.


	24. Kitten Sneezes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Whatever amusement that had built up in the short amount of time in the previous moment, fled from your mind almost instantaneously. Nausea was a well known feeling that coiled low in your gut, unwelcome but _ familiar_. A strange pallor graced your skin, heaving as chills ran rampant on your body in an effort to show your discomfort. Sickness began to chase up your throat until abruptly being forced back down. _ He made you sick. Uncomfortable. _ You could still feel the phantom of his hands on you, his teeth, his _ tongue. _

But nothing ever left your mouth, a blatant reminder that you had yet to eat that morning. Your appetite was non-existent at this point; the thought of _ eating _ was a foreign thing. If anything, it made you feel even _ more _ sick. Your eyes remained trained on the particular spot Alastor had stood only a moment ago— and yet, to you, it felt like an eternity. Your confidence in yourself _ and _the situation walked right out the door with him, lip twitching. 

Your adrenaline had caused you to push away his evil deeds he had violated you with, the humor you had allowed to slip from you a fight or flight response. In your inability to fight _ or _ flee from the situation; a defense mechanism had been summoned, primal and a last act of self-preservation, despite his actions turning to, dare you say it, a more _gentle _ nature_. _You released a shaky breath.

You recalled Vaggie’s words of him being a wicked, violent monster of chaos from so long ago, and truly, you could not have said it better yourself.

The creaking of the settling Hotel was the only ambiance in the immediate area, the normal chaos non-existent. The distant resonations from explosions confirmed your suspicions on what exactly caused everything prior to play out, much to your utter _ disappointment. _ You turned your head, snapping back into reality and ultimately into focus towards the entrance to the Hotel, almost dazed, _ waiting _to see if he would come back. He didn’t. Silence was your only company. 

Tough facade thoroughly cracked and transparent, heart slamming in your chest; you watched the stained glass windows flexed the light in what would have been a gorgeous way if you weren’t already on your way to having a breakdown. Stress and emotion clouded your gaze, finally spilling over once you reanimated yourself by slamming your palm against the door, just as another distant explosion reverberated through the foundations and threatened to close it again.

You take that as your cue to make your escape; darting out of the closet and beelining it straight to the movement you heard from upstairs. You doubted you had ever moved so _ quick _ in your life, tripping over your own feet as you climbed up the stairs in alarm. The moment you reached the hallway, a blur of darkness shrouded you as you slammed into a hard frame, a loud grunt and a ‘ _fuck’ _ being released from said individual. The impact caused you to fall onto your ass unceremoniously.

In your state of hazy confusion and _ fear, _ you briefly expected it to be the Radio Demon himself-- until what was said caught up with your frantic mind. You bring a hand up and rub away the tears that continued to threaten to spill down your cheeks, clouding your eyes and blurring the feline demon who now peered down at you with a mixture of annoyance, ignorance of what to do, and thinly veiled _ concern. _

_ Husk. _

Whatever was being held back was released upon coming to the realization you were now in the presence of someone who _ didn’t _ want to eat you alive. His wings were unraveled in surprise, and you watched as they returned to their original drooped positioning after a moment of comprehension of, _ in his own words, _ what the _ fuck _was going on. Husk remained motionless for a long instance of inner monologue. 

“C’mon kid, get up.” He gruffly said at last, grumpily offering you a paw. You’re careful of the long claws, and when you hesitantly accept the help, he pulls you up silently. You were sniffling pathetically, fat tears bubbling down your cheeks. He stared at you, assessing your expression. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to remain there helplessly or just go somewhere quiet and _ private _ to bury your woes. You room sounded like a good idea. _ But your privacy had been invaded in there too, hadn’t it? _

Husk’s tail rested on the ground, twitching in what was probable concern, betraying his pissed off and grumpy expression that adorned his face. There’s another minute of hesitation before you release a choked sob and fall into him. Said demon stiffens, placing a single foot behind him at the sudden, unexpected force. His arms were raised half-way, paws outstretched in surprise. He’s as still as a statue, your tears staining his fur, a permanent grimace nearly tattooed on his face.

There’s a defeated sigh above you before you feel his frame relax _ just enough _ for _ purrs _ to rumble through his chest. You weren’t sure if he was even aware he was doing it; it was deeper, but more matching to his ill-tempered and peeved persona. His fluff begins to take the initative of calming you down, _ he was surprisingly comfortable and warm. _ No wonder he barely wore clothes. He didn’t _ need _to. His purring continued on at a low frequency, loud enough to offer you consolation in his own way despite him still useless standing there as you cried against him. 

The tears were nearly infinite, a dam broken; every single stress that had been laid on your shoulders by Alastor making itself known with each tear that was shed. You were a _ mess. _

Husk had begun to wonder whether you would _ ever _ stop crying. His purring picked up a notch, now able to feel it through his fur. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Immediately suspecting that the reason for your crying was regarding Alastor, his tail began to twitch behind him, annoyed and concerned over the fact that the Radio Demon was preying on this young woman to the point that she was finding comfort in _ him. _

The last individual you would and should have gone to for _ comfort. _ He supposed it ignited a sense of concern and protectiveness deep inside him; but he would never admit it. _ Hell to the fucking no. _

When no more tears could be produced and _ there was a lot, _ you remained still, regaining _ some _ control over your emotions. You were _ so exhausted. _ Emotionally, physically. While you were unable to die from exhaustion at this point, it felt like you _ could_. You supposed that was one of the reasons it was Hell. Reminding you that you still had to suffer through the side-effects of life, despite it being the afterlife. _ Was Heaven free of these stresses? _A sense of envy sparked deep in you. 

_ What did you do to deserve this? _

Husk slow blinked down at you once you regained enough skill to hold yourself up appropriately, watching as you rubbed your eyes blearily, offering a whispered ‘sorry’, before rubbing your nose. “So, you’re going to tell me what the fuck _ that _ shit was about.” He grumbled, holding up a claw. “But not here.” His ears pivoted this way and that as if _ listening _ for something or _ someone. _

He seemed eager to get out of the Hotel, which indicated that it was most likely _ Angel _ he was fed up with. The arachnid had been all over him from day one; but a lot more muted and playful than the situation _ you _found yourself wound up in.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest, watching as Husk passed you and turning to follow after him like a lost puppy. His mannerisms were interesting; you take time to notice the not so subtle details of his design. Card designs decorated his wings— _ could he fly? _ The random thoughts were for your sake lest you slip into a fit of depression once again. His tail curled and twisted between each step he took in a frantic fashion; thrashing back and forth that made you believe he was _ pissed _about something. 

Eventually, the two of you reach the lobby once again, silence the only conversation the two of you had on the way. He led you to the front door, a gust of cold air reminding you of the frost biting weather that originated from outside. Even _ snow _ had begun to collect on the ground. It had been so long since you had seen a shade of such purity, and your heart lurched at the sight of it. Uncertain, you glance back at the coat hanger, debating whether or not take one despite _ none _of them being yours. 

Trying your luck, you’re cut off by a happy squeal that resounded down the hallway of the lobby, hooves of a certain endearing pig being made known. Your eyes widened slightly at the impending pig that hopped towards you. Confusion knitted your eyebrows together before you released a soft breath of amusement, watching as Angel hurried after him. 

_ It had heard you_. 

It’s intelligence made you admire it, even as you it was whisked up and placed into the arms of Angel Dust. Fat Nuggets nearly skipped up to you, squealing and snorting the entire way before stopping and wiggling his body at you in excitement. He bounced from hoof to hoof, ignoring the clatter of fast paced heel clicks coming behind him.

"Nuggets, I fuckin' told y--" Angel trailed off mid sentence, both sets of arms crossed sternly. His eyes bounced from the pig, to you, to Husk, and back to you. Confusion was scarcely hidden on his face, "You wanted _ her _? She's leavin', bud." He didn't bother asking where or why, he simply scooped up Fat Nuggets in his arms and turned to go back upstairs. 

"And don't keep the door open. 'S fuckin'_ cold. _" He called from behind him.

“I’m okay,” you said to the pig as it wiggled in Angel’s grip to peer from his shoulder. If someone would have told you you would be speaking to a _ pig _ about your health, mental or physical, you would have laughed in their face. _ But here you were. _

Husk grunted, and you turned to face him. He made a motion with his head to hurry up. 

“I don’t have a coat.” You stated lightly to the feline. Truth be told, you didn’t really _ want _ to go outside. Al _ ass _tor had been last seen out there and like hell if you were willing to deal with him anytime soon. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Angel simply glanced at you again, eyes shooting up and down your figure. His face began to contort into a series of uncomfortable expressions. "Mnn. Just take my fuckin' coat. God, just," one hand came up to brush up his hair, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked away pointedly, tapping his foot. "Don't get shit on it. Ya got it?"

“Your coat?” You looked back up to him in confusion and perhaps even a bit of _ awe. _ You stared at the effeminate arachnid for a long moment, coming to the conclusion that he didn’t _ have _a coat. At least, he wasn’t wearing one. You tilted your head slightly.

Realizing you were staring, he flustered, gold tooth flashing as he violently pointed to the pink fluffy mass of a coat hanging on the top notch of the coat rack, "God, kid. Blind or somethin'? Get her eyes checked while you're out, Husky." He spun around and took a step forward. Husk rolled his eyes.

“_Oh _ .” You followed his finger and stared at the very big and very fluffy pink jacket. It was more fur than actual jacket and _ far too big for you_. You didn’t move, staring owlishly at it. 

Frustrated and embarrassed, Angel took two strides forward and grabbed the coat, tearing it off the hook, and turning to you. He didn’t even _ look _ at you when he raised it and _ dumped _ it unceremoniously on you. The entire time his face was a pale pink and he began muttering curses. “_There_. Happy?”

The coat swallows you whole, the weight causing you to stumble a bit before regaining your balance. You mutter a muffled response that sounds like a _ thank you_, but with fur in your mouth, you could barely be comprehensive. 

“Great. _ Fantastic_.” Husk muttered, raising a paw and, grasping the pink fluffed hood, gave a harsh, impatient tug.

You felt yourself being tugged out the door, and you offer a small glance to Angel before it’s slammed behind you. The moment it is, you spit out a pink fur ball from your mouth, the arms of the coat nearly dragging across the ground. _ So much for not getting stuff on it. _ It was pretty, if not exceedingly flamboyant. And heavy. And probably _ very expensive. _

It was warm though, and you suppose that's what you had been after.

Walking down the three stairs that lead from the balcony, a silence met your ears other than the wind that ‘_ruffled the feathers _’ quite literally on Husk. 

“_So, uh… _ ” Husk starts as if unsure how to speak to you. He was well aware that you were a mess, you _ look _ like a mess and he couldn’t help but feel… _ not good _ , “What the _ fuck _was that back there?” 

You recoil at the sheer volume of his voice, the ntensity in his voice about the subject because you’re so torn up about it. You were meek at first, avoidant and trying to hide in the massive mountain of fluff - attempting to escape, you note the smell of the overbearing garment and the comfortability it harbored as Husk’s sudden tangent, his rapid-fire questions unanswered, were muffled. _ You just wanted to hide. _

“-- and about that fuckin’ red-headed, microphone _ bastard.” _

You wince and you get a fresh reminder of what exactly you’d been trying to take your mind off of. You manage to bring a finger to your lips, shushing him. “Quiet down, _ please.” _

He released a furious huff, “_but he won’t leave you alone!” _he exclaims, throwing his paws up in frustration. 

You glance up at him warily, anxiously messing with the fabric on the coat. You were _ paranoid. _ Alastor was probably listening in _ right now _ \- you were never truly _ left alone, _ and if you had learned it the hard way. “He’s infatuated with me.” You release with a sigh, shoulders slumping as you craned your head to the red sky— if only that would give you a semblance of comfort. _ It didn’t. _ You looked back up at Husk.

He’d gone quiet, expression contorting into one of annoyance, “Yeah, you fuckin’ _ bet _ he is,” Husk grumbled, that long and endearing tail twitched behind him. He crossed his arms, “Fuckin’ weird as it is, it’s not some secret. He _ blows _ at covering his shit up.” The feline looked like he needed a drink, grimace looking even more dire than usual - concern lingered in his eyes for a moment, glassy and overbearingly warm. But he turned quickly as if to shade such a weakness, trying to push away the trying and _ exhausting _feelings of care.

Bitterly musing through the memories of earlier that day, you kicked a pebble in your comfortable stride. Unlike Alastor, you could actually _ walk _ with Husk. “He’s out of his mind.” You stated the fact, solidifying your disgust with the situation by bringing your hand up. “Husk, he licked my _ fucking hand.” _You pointed to the bandaging with an exasperated expression; still feeling the ghost of his tongue on the wound. 

“I just— I guess it’s not right to assume but, you’ve been down here longer than me. He has too, so you know more about him than I do.” You were ranting now, spilling every worry and woe to the feline, every _ stress _ the Radio Demon had given you just by _ enchanting _ you with his presence. “So why _ me? _ Has this happened before? Why-“ you wanted to rip your hair out, “_Why me!?” _ You snapped, ironically ignoring the fact that you had just told Husk to _ lower his voice. _

Husk only listened in silence, his demeanor colder than ice and exceedingly _ serious _ \- each time you’d gotten passionate, _ angry _ about something that Alastor had tortured you with, the feline could feel his own anger grow, the frustration and feeling of helplessness bubbled in his chest and acted as a heavy weight on his conscience - he didn’t dare say a word, he’d save them all for _ him, _ that… _ radio fuck. _

“He never tells me _ why. _ He just says that I’m his favorite-- _ Favorite? _ What does that even _ mean!? _ ” He was so cryptic with his words, never giving you a solid answer, always dancing on the fine line of _ just _letting you know enough. 

But it was never enough.

You weren’t different. You were just _ you. _ “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it, Husk. I told him I was done with his game, I _ told him _ he was infatuated with me and- and he fucking _ dipped_.” Perhaps you were beginning to let Angel rub off on you. You had picked up on his way of speaking. His vocabulary. You didn’t notice.

Husk’s eyebrows rose, pupils narrowing into pinpricks while a _ sneer _ adorned his whiskers, “_Oh, man--” _ he guffawed, bitterly chuckling at Alastor bullshittery, “He fuckin’ _ bailed _ the moment you called out his shit?” He howled with laughter, wheezing at the unfortunate antics of his… ‘ _ boss’. _ His laughter wholly in amusement, twisted with venom and utter distaste for the red-headed demon that taunted his _ friend _so. 

Husk turned to her, as serious as the grave, “_He’s not gonna give up, you know.” _

His laughter was contagious, mostly because it was so _ rare _ to hear him laugh. Despite a small smile adorning your lips _ because _of that, it eventually sizzled out when he turned serious. You furrowed your brows. “What does he want?” You questioned aloud as if Husk would have all of the answers.

“What is he _ chasing?” Was it so bad to wish for a happy and peaceful afterlife? _

_ Hell _ was not a peaceful slumber, it was restless and harsh and _ terrible - _ monsters lingering at every corner threatening to consume you whole… Husk knew this and understood you only wished for something that your reality was not, “Sounds like he’s chasing _ you.” _That gruff voice interrupted, head hung low as both their feet crunched through the snow, the only sound aside from their angry conversation.

“How do I make him _ quit it?” _

“_Well, have you asked him to stop?”_ _Oh_, how Husk knew it was foolish to ask such a question, but it was a poor attempt to lighten the mood and ease her nerves - that still didn’t quell the internal berating he’d given himself.

You stared up at him for a long moment at the humored question. “I think I’ve said it in every single conversation,” you offered a response nonetheless. _ You felt tired _ . While easing a _ bit _ of stress and sharing the burden _ just barely _ with Husk and Angel, it still was _ your _ burden to bear. He didn’t know, despite his experience that rivaled your own in life. He didn’t seem like the _ relationship _kind of guy in your very humble opinion. “Can we talk about something else?”

The slight cringe of his features that accompanied the question was answer enough to his guilt - _ he made you uncomfortable, just great - _ his paws coming together to warm themselves while a small moment passed where he wished he’d worn those mittens again. Husk grunted, nodding, “Sounds like a _ damn _ good idea to me.” His lip twitched upwards again, thoughtful, as he’d sent you a slow and deep blink - he felt almost _ calm. _

You weren’t sure what the blink meant, but you supposed it was some sort of hidden message you would never figure out. And for some reason, that was _ fine _ by you. Your cheeks had grown red by the cold, your breath visible. The silence was welcome, _ comfortable _even.

“I don’t remember anything of my past life.” You blurted. “Not really, anyway. I don’t know what… I did.” You admitted heavily; as if the statement in itself was something to burden on his shoulders. “...And it’s hard to know how to react and respond to situations when I’m missing out on everything I ever was.” Your heart felt heavy, but not out of the discomfort of the conversation.

No, the topic was surprisingly easy to talk about with Husk. “I’ve gotten memories here and there but… they’re not anything_ significant.” _

He hummed in acknowledgment, coming to flex those large wings as if in some deep thought - truly attempting to absorb all this information you’d fed him, _ attempting to help. _ Husk was unsure of what to say exactly, hesitant in his words, “A _ lot _ of us don’t know what we did… “ he started lowly, gaze fixated on the snow under his feet, “You know--” like an elderly gentleman, he’d gotten that _ look; _ the expression of someone lost in memory, ready to exploit words of wisdom upon his favorited youngins for their betterment, “Your past isn’t everything you ever were - I mean, fuck - I’ve seen a buncha assholes build an empire without even knowing their damn _ names _.”

Suddenly, a high-pitched and utterly endearing sound escaped him as he’d inhaled a bit of snow - a _ kitten sneeze. _He rubbed his nose. You glanced up at him with amusement, but decided to not comment on it.

“And let me tell you, I fuckin’ _ bet _ you could do the same even without your memories. You decide who you are, don’t let some shit— some _ memories _ determine what kind of person you are. A past is a past.” Husk replied solemnly, his wisdom perhaps unhelpful but certainly he was _ trying - _the poor feline looked almost awkward and flourished his words with his paws as if in nervousness.

If you had been in an anime, your eyes would have had stars in them, pupils blown out of their normal slitted shape. You were in _ awe _ , you truly hadn’t known he had it in him. The moment he had finished, you latched onto him in a tight hug; not caring for his claws or whatever rebuttal he would give. People needed _ hugs, okay? _And you gave some pretty gosh darn good ones. Husk stiffened but gave into your affection a lot easier the second time around. 

_ “Thank you.” _ You pulled away after a moment, beaming up at him before your expression softened into a hesitant one. “But I should really find out what happened. _ I think... _ I think it would help, y’know?” You thought back onto the commercial with a comical loud gasp, patting your pockets and breathing a sigh of relief at your habit you had practically made with bringing the paper with you _ everywhere. _

You dug it out, the paper crumbled and barely legible at this point. You tried your best to smooth out the paper, but it was past redemption. At least you could make out just enough. “Do you know what IMP is?” 

“The fuck is that?” He deadpanned.

You took that as a ‘no’. “Um,” you leaned the paper closer to your face, squinting. “Imme…” You huffed out in frustration before bringing it to your face again after attempting to straighten it out more. “_Immediate Murder Professionals? _ ” You questioned allowed. That sounded right and _ wrong _ at the same time. “I don’t want to kill anyone.” You state quickly before he had the chance to comment on it.

“Their jingle said they had a portal to _ the human realm, _ I can— I can see if they can help me find out something. It’s my best chance, Husk, _ please.” _You had stopped walking, causing him to look back down to you and following suit. 

“Kid, I don’t give a shit _ what _ you do. Just—“ He paused, wrapping his arms together. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He mumbled the last part. You didn’t hear it, already buzzing with excitement over the fact that _ this was it. _

That was all you needed. Pulling your phone out of the second pocket, you dialed the number and nervously held the phone to your ear. It rang once, twice, your excitement fading into anxiety when it continued to ring. It ended without a voicemail and you hung up. You looked at the number again on the paper, and then at the phone, biting your lip. 

Husk was tempted to tell you to not get your hopes up. But he remained silent, furling out his wings and covering himself in their shelter. He _ really _needed a fuckin’ drink. 

By the third time you dial the number, it finally picks up, a monotone feminine voice that sounded like a moody, emo teenager responding: “Hello, IMP.” You froze with an “um,” and there’s a groan on the other end. “Listen, if this is that telemarketing again, you can go sit on a _ dick.” _Your eyebrows shot up, looking over at Husk who was wrapped up endearingly in his wings. He gave you a raised, grumpy eyebrow. 

“Uh, yeah, um, I mean _ no, _it’s not. I was wondering if I could speak to whoever’s in charge… please?” Your voice ended in a hopeful lilt.

There was silence for a moment before a loud “_ BLITZØ! YOU GOT SOMEONE ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!” _ Made you pull the phone away from your ear with a wince. There’s silence for a long moment, and you hear a faint _ ‘No, it’s not Stolas. I don’t fucking know! How should I know what she wants?” _Stolas. There was that name again. Suddenly a grumble was announced before a recognizable voice took control of the phone. 

“Blitzø here, the o _ is _silent. You’ve called the IMP—who can we murder for you?” Your cheeks paled, nervously toying with the fur of the coat. 

“No_ no _, I don’t— I don’t want to get anyone killed,” you paused and there was dead silence on the other side before he spoke up again: 

“Y-you do know what IMP stands for, _ right?” _ He sounded baffled as if you were really _ fucking stupid. _

“Yes! I saw your advertisement. I heard you had… a way to get to the human realm. I can’t remember anything of my past— what I did to get down here. If I was killed, what was the cause of my death—“

“We’re not _ investigators_.” He cut you off. “We get the job done, quick and easy. Without a trace. Catching my drift?” You could hear the sneer in his voice. 

“I have money.” You blurted, desperate. 

The silence is so long that you thought that he had hung up already, but once there’s a heavy intake of air and a loud sigh, he begins: “Fine. _ Fine. _You can come down to the facility and we can go over what you want. It’s a case by case thing. No promises though, we don’t do this type of thing often.” He continued on to say that it would be a hefty sum of cash, and you paled when he said the price before hesitantly agreeing.

_ You needed to. _

Giving you the directions, he bid you farewell by hanging up on you without a word. 

You tucked your phone away, unsure of what to do now. “Where’s the third circle of Hell?” You turned to Husk who released a low grumble as if recalling. 

“Far.” Was his only answer, voice muffled by his wings.

“_Far_.” You repeated with a whisper. How would you get to ’ _ far’? _ You felt nervous. Uncertain. Had you done the right thing? Was this what you were _ supposed _to do? Your stomach did flips before releasing a sigh. You watched him return his wings to his back properly. 

It is only after a few moments the feline started to feel the effects of the hospitality you brought upon you beaming up at him. “Should probably head back to the Hotel, don’t want to catch a cold.” He gruffly stated, turning back to the direction of said Hotel, but walking slow enough for you to keep pace with him. 

You and Husk make it back to the hotel in sweet silence. Good things never lasted, you supposed, as the sound of yelling greeted you outside of the facility before Husk opened the door. 

Vaggie and Angel are at it -- Charlie and her had apparently returned while you were out on your little walk; the moth demon looked like she was going to pull her hair out, or better yet, throw hands with the tall and feminine arachnid who was purposefully tipping over expensive glasses just to spite her.

The two of you enter just as a bottle falls to the floor and shatters, the bickering coming to a halt for a single moment to see you _ (or what can be presumed as you) _ in a giant ball of pink fluff and Husk, who was begrudgingly helping said ball of fluff out of Angel’s massive coat at the doorway.

“Welcome back!” Charlie greeted from across the room, turning to approaching you-- Angel following in suit. The rosy-cheeked woman jumped at the voice of Vaggie having a conniption over Angel.

“_Hijo de puta! _ You’re not taking this seriously!” The moth demon is holding up a bag of white powder and it becomes _ immediately _clear what caused the argument. 

By the time the coat was removed from you and boy, were you glad for that weight to be off of your shoulders, Charlie had pushed herself between the two as they got into each other’s faces, nervously but calmly trying to break up the heated argument and impending fight - briefly sending a look over at you and Husk as if asking for _ help. _

Angel pushed Charlie out of the way which pisses off Vaggie even _ more. _He turned to the porcelain-like demon, towering over her:

“It don’t fuckin’ help that while ya were out on yer fuckin’ _ date, _ yer Radio dickwad had gotten stuck in a closet with _ her.” _ All of Angel’s arms were pointed in your direction. Your felt your throat close. _ Had he eavesdropped? _

You could hear a pin drop as Charlie glanced over at you with_ horror _ in her expression. The argument that was taking place once again between Vaggie and Angel ultimately being tuned out as you watched Husk return to the bar, sorting through different bottles of alcohol. 

The moment you look back, your met with the concerned expression of the Princess of Hell.

Silently, she leads the two of you down a long hallway, one that was dramatically familiar to you in a way that you could traverse it with your _ eyes _closed. Nevertheless, the paintings that adorned the walls never ceased to get your attention. A majority of them consisted of different assortments of family portraits; always so elegant in the making and beautifully, exceptionally painted. 

“...Are you okay?”

Charlie’s voice is soft, light with the acknowledgement to you. You turned your attention back to her, her pace slowed once the two of you turned down a hallway that was littered wall-to-wall with different paintings. 

“Husk made me feel better.” You responded softly, and she turned to you, pausing in her steps. You followed suit, rubbing your other arm as a heavy breath fell from your lips. She crossed her arms in a motherly manner, heavy concern on her face. “...He did a few things I don’t really want to talk about right now.” You were _ embarrassed, _ disgusted, uncomfortable. Alastor made you feel an assortment of emotions you didn’t _ want _to feel. 

Despite having the ball in your field, it was _ deflated. _

She noticed immediately and latched onto you, causing you to wrap your arms around her. You would have cried right then and there if it weren’t the fact that you physically _ couldn’t _ anymore. Still, your face warmed at the notion, and you buried your face against her shoulder. Her perfume she had on from the date smelled _ good _ and you released a soft sigh. When you reopened your eyes, your eyes remained trained on a painting behind her of her family. They looked like _ royalty. _

She didn’t offer you words of comfort, but her actions were more than enough to appease you.

It was hard to believe that Charlie was the daughter of Lucifer. 

When a crash is heard from the lobby, shaking the paintings, you feel Charlie stiffen around you. She was ready to march right back out into the lobby and scold both of them, and yet, even admist the chaos, you focus your attention the painting, narrowing your eyes. Subtle movements that you chalked up to your stress and skyrocketed anxiety. You blink quickly, eyebrows knitting together as Charlie finally pulls back, offering you a small, sweet smile, until she notices your expression.

You separate from her and leant in to look at the painting when it happens again, the subtle movements turning into… ripples, a certain and common painting suddenly water-like and tangible. You were going insane. This was it. _ You finally cracked. _ Charlie turns around as you watch on in confusion and awe only to observe as a _ claw _suddenly curls around the frame of the art. 

You nearly scream, jumping behind Charlie as more and more of _ something _is revealed. A finely-clad leg this time coming to brace itself on the frame, and an otherworldly creature slowly coming to crawl out of it. It paused briefly before it finally released itself into the confines of the hallway, a face not unlike Charlie’s being revealed from beneath a tall hat.

“_Dad!?” _


	25. Apple Daddy

_ “Good afternoon, Charlie!”  _

Lucifer’s expression was the epitome of  _ delight _ , lingering in the frame as a void of oblivion pulsed around him; bending to his will in such a way that sparked a sensation of awe and wariness deep inside of you. 

He remained positioned within the support of the picture; said painting somehow not collapsing under the weight of such an interdimensional portal. You supposed that wasn’t the most  _ bizarre _ thing you had ever witnessed down here, but it was definitely up there. You blinked up at him owlishly, peering from behind Charlie.

Unintentionally, you had begun to search for a method to the madness, trying to pick apart such otherworldly powers that you didn’t and would  _ never _ fully come to understand. 

Charlie appeared to be in some sort of a revelation of thoughts, lost in her mind as the  _ devil  _ escaped the clutches of the darkness that now wisped from the painting. He landed in an elegant, refined manner just before said  _ daughter  _ piped up and began to converse quickly (in what sounded to be much more based on anxiety and tension than actual  _ excitement). _

His grin was sharp, if not a bit  _ predatory. _

From what you could see from behind her, a placement you had taken up in instinctually for self-preservation, Lucifer’s hat reached just above Charlie. When you peered around, you lightheartedly began to recall the soapbox upon realizing that he was, in fact,  _ shorter  _ than her. You couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh at the thought of such a high and mighty demon being so utterly  _ miniature.  _

He was still taller than you though, if just barely. 

His eyes snapped to you as if he  _ heard  _ your thoughts, appropriately causing you to jump and remind yourself that he was indeed the head-honcho in Hell and, despite the polka-esque and jovial mood he possessed, he had powers and strength unimaginable to you.  _ You never wanted to find out _ . Luckily for you, he did not seem to be here to smite anyone out of existence, much to your utter relief. 

You could stop - proverbially -  _ sweating buckets.  _

He had a comical nature of jolliness, the air far lighter than you would have expected for such a demon of high caliber. He possessed no red horns or sharp tail— no, he looked _ important.  _ You began to notice the specific artifacts and objects integrated into his attire: a worm that curled around his hat that you  _ hoped  _ wasn’t alive. There was an apple atop his cane and one positioned upon his hat, held in place by said  _ gigantic  _ worm. 

He didn’t look much like a demon, in your personal belief. No, he had the same  _ pepperoni cheeks  _ as Charlie did. 

You were beginning to notice a theme. 

Charlie, in the meantime, had a positively adorable smile adorning her features at the fact that, while it  _ was  _ her father, he was still a guest _ . Perhaps she wasn’t a failure, after all. _ A spark of hope lingered low in her chest that he had come here to  _ support  _ her dream and not smush it underneath his cane like a bug. Her smile twitched slightly at the thought, snapping out of the anxious reverie she had found herself in. 

“So, who is  _ this?”  _ Lucifer inquired, staring  _ directly  _ back at you. 

You gulp, stepping from behind your  _ protector  _ to come face to face with him completely. Charlie happily introduced you, and upon her finishing, you were met with an utterly  _ devilish  _ grin as he stuck out a clawed hand for your to shake. You stared down at it for a long moment, watching as it twitched impatiently before grasping his hand in yours. 

His skin was cold,  _ uncomfortable _ , but you kept your hand in his until  _ he  _ let you go, all for the sake of not standing on thin ice with  _ Lucifer _ .

“ _ Pleasure  _ to meet you,” he tested your name on his tongue, sounding pleasantly exotic from his accented voice. “Delightful name!” He piped up in a continuation excitedly, and you couldn’t help but offer an amused laugh at his energetic nature, a bashful smile at his compliment as he shook your hand a few times before releasing you.

You brought your hand back to your side, tilting your head over to the painting behind him. The tendrils of an expanding, absence of light were nowhere to be seen. Simply a memory of what could have been your sanity finally snapping under the pressure of your daily stresses if it were not for the culprit standing directly in front of you. 

When the conversation hit a stalemate, you went over and gave into your biting curiosity, reaching up and poking at the painting inquisitively and cautiously. The texture was smooth, cool beneath your touch.  _ It was just paper.  _

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, whether or not a vacant abyss of darkness would swallow you up suddenly; but you found yourself  _ slightly _ disappointed that whatever portal Lucifer had traveled through was simply nonexistent. Amusement danced on said devil’s features, watching you the  _ entire  _ time as Charlie looked down the hallway anxiously, just as a shatter echoed through the walls. You flinched away at that.

Squinting, you turn your attention to Charlie and her father, blinking up at him.  _ Would it be right to question such an entity’s powers?  _ You had with Alastor—  _ but that was Alastor.  _ This was the  _ devil.  _ You felt off-put by his presence suddenly, a silence hanging in the gallery.

“Curious?” Lucifer chuckled, seamlessly running a finger along the cane that had…  _ just appeared.  _ He gave the impression of a certain smug outlook regarding your behavior, as if being completely aware of the inner turmoil and overwhelming curiosity you faced. You weren’t sure how you felt about that thought, and in doing so, you made a small face.

His eyes crinkled joyously at that. He supposed it was of no surprise that you repressed your innermost desires and interests in the presence of a being such as he. 

You decide to remain in rooted silence, tearing your gaze away and moving over to Charlie in search of her overbearing and almost  _ suffocating _ comfort. She offered you a small smile, returning her gaze to the two of you as you attempted to ignore the screaming that arose from the lobby. 

_ He came at the worst time. _

Lucifer adjusted his bowtie as it had become far too unkempt, mumbling about ‘ _ damn transportation _ ’ and some _ unfamiliar magics _ \- those sharp eyes glanced around the hotel,  _ something  _ lingering in them before he turned to Charlie with a flourish, masquerading a demand with a light-hearted tone:

“Show me around this hotel, I want to see how your  _ project _ is coming along, my dear - it looks…  _ unfinished.”  _ His tone dropped, eyes narrowing slightly.

To say you were slightly offended would have been the statement of the year. A small frown touched your lips—  _ what made it seem unfinished?  _ You took a glance around you, albeit  _ under the radar. _ A light huff marked your discontent with his comment; squinting at him.  _ Said the man with a worm on his head. _ In situations like these, it was better to speak when spoken to—  _ you did not want to get on the wrong foot with Lucifer.  _

You supposed it was ironic, though. 

Despite there being a thing in the room of unimaginable powers and abilities, the air felt...  _ lighter  _ than it did with the  _ one who should not be named _ who, to your understanding, had abilities similar to him. 

Charlie had powers, or  _ a power,  _ for lack of better terminology. Though, hers were more for  _ show.  _ You were not stupid to let the wool be pulled over your eyes; you had to remind yourself to not get too  _ comfortable  _ despite his polka-esque jovial essence.

You look over to Charlie then, almost  _ awkwardly.  _ “Should I come talk to you later?” You whisper softly, leaning up to her ear.  _ You didn’t want to intrude. _

Charlie’s large eyes met yours, she shook her head quickly, almost  _ pleading,  _ shooting back with, “I could  _ really _ use a buddy right now—” she offered a smile, nudging you playfully. You offered a nervous smile before nodding gently, nudging your  _ friend _ back. 

“A  _ buddy?”  _ Lucifer inquired, interrupting as he tapped a claw on his chin, “Well, isn’t that just sweet,” the  _ devil  _ laughed -  _ he laughed a lot.  _ It wasn’t malicious nor mocking; he seemed surprised and amused more than anything. Luci flashed another grin, “ _ Tooth-rottingly so.” _

Looking back over to Lucifer, a single eyebrow raised. “Don’t you know what a friend is?” You blurted before you could catch yourself, and your face paled when you realized. 

Sometimes it was easy to forget that you needed to watch yourself— that not everyone was as, well you wouldn’t say  _ laid back,  _ but you were entirely too used to cranking out the comebacks for a  _ special someone _ , you thought bitterly, that it became  _ second nature  _ to you.

“I don’t need friends,  _ they disappoint me.”  _ He responded darkly, holding the tense atmosphere for a moment as Charlie shook her head disapprovingly, “Ahah!  _ Gotcha! _ ” he giggled, pointing an accusatory claw at your pallid face and worried expression, “My  _ dear,  _ you should’ve seen your face!” Lucifer almost doubled over in laughter,  _ he was a troublemaker for sure;  _ perhaps taking just as much pleasure in bullying you as  _ Alastor. _

You laughed humorlessly, nervously bringing a hand to rub at the back of your neck, the laughter trailing off quickly despite Lucifer’s own  _ posh daddy laugh _ continuing. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment.  _ My dear.  _ Your stomach clenched, face continuing to pale as the blood drained from it. Charlie noticed your discomfort, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Uh, dad…  _ the hotel? _ ”

He shooed Charlie with a hand, “Of course, just having a little  _ fun.”  _ Lucifer responded as if Charlie was  _ such _ a spoilsport, “However! I do wish to see what you’ve been so busy with -  _ what’s been going on,  _ wouldn’t want you to be wasting your time.”

Charlie seemed nervous again,  _ he knew there were hardly any guests,  _ “ _ Well… _ ” she started, “What would you like to see first? What would you like to know about?” She sounded almost hopeful, twiddling her thumbs as a hum escaped him.

He snapped his fingers in epiphany, “The lobby! It should be utterly _ thriving _ , no?” The sound of another item shattered could be heard muffled through the wall. Lucifer’s grin twisted upwards as he sent a most disapprovingly smug look at Charlie, who was now sweating. You could feel her distress; it was suffocating. 

“Um, how about we see the rest of these paintings?” You pipe up lightly, helping out Charlie in turn with a nervous grin because  _ you knew  _ of the reason behind why you so desperately could not bring Lucifer to the  _ lobby.  _

It would end up destroying whatever small amount of respect he still had for her dream. You couldn’t let that happen. 

Lucifer’s eyes snapped to you again, his lidded gaze appeared  _ bored,  _ “But the lobby sounds like  _ so much fun... _ ” he argued as muffled screaming could clearly be heard, “Remember now,” wagging a claw at you with a smirk that seemed eternal, “ _ I’m the guest.” _

You glanced at him for a long moment, and then to Charlie, and then back at him. Charlie doesn’t respond; in fact, she looked like she’s about to have a fit. Another crash causes the two of you to jump: “It’s not finished, that’s what you’re hearing! _ ”  _ You gasped out in an exclaim, “It’s construction—  _ so boring.”  _ You flashed a small grin at him to cover up your nervousness and blatant lie. 

_ You weren’t good at hiding your emotions. _

He stifled a laugh.  _ He was onto you,  _ “Oh,  _ very well… _ ” sighing, his gaze flickered back to his daughter, “If it’s under  _ construction -  _ it must be a trifle!”  _ He was mocking you, wasn’t he? _ Before any complaints could be made, he turned on his heel (but not before shooting you a knowing look, as if teasing your nervousness) to gaze at the paintings that lined those grand walls -  _ he’d seen these so many times before. _

You suddenly recalled one of the reasons you wanted to talk to Charlie to begin with, being lost to your mind until this point for some subconscious, unaware reason.

Before Charlie could follow after him, you reached out to her and stopped her in her steps. “I did something… and I don’t know if it was a mistake,” you blurted softly, your voice a whisper, but just loud enough for her to hear. 

She looked confused and concerned, but her silence was an answer enough for you to continue on in your explanation. “I called I.M.P. to help me get my memories back— and I think I made a mistake.  _ I promised to pay them for something I don’t have.  _ I-It’s so far, too, apparently  _ and— _ “ you were ranting now, Charlie’s expression flatlining, you didn’t notice your voice had risen. 

She appeared wholly confused,  _ stressed.  _ You felt guilty.

_ Impulsive decisions never ended well. _

Charlie finally snapped out of whatever daze she was in and attempted to calm you down. “It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—“ she paused, frowning slightly to herself at the sound of yet  _ another  _ glass being shattered, “We’ll figure it out.”

_ How was Charlie the daughter of Lucifer? _

Said devil twirled that cane, parading along and idly eyeing the large frames in utter disinterest - a particularly annoying one catching his eye and causing him to pause in his mindless stroll. ‘ _ Luclfer’  _ he recalled the bitter memory of an artist that misspelled his name, something akin to a grimace on his features. Of course, only until he heard something positively j _ uicy  _ being pathetically whispered, a horrible attempt at being secretive.

He glanced over, seeing both you and Charlie talking in whispers.  _ Consider his curiosity piqued.  _

The moment you pulled away from Charlie at the sudden  _ looming  _ presence next to the two of you, you look back over to Lucifer, unnerved at his demanding attention with being the center of the spotlight. 

_ “Sooo… what are we talking about?”  _ He asked happily, his expression betraying his tone, that plotting and devilish smile _ ever-prevalent.  _ Before you could respond, Charlie, thankfully, spoke up:

“...Do you know anything of I.M.P.?” She sounded… uncertain as if  _ she  _ hadn’t heard of it before.

You look between the two of them before rubbing your arm with your hand. Despite not meaning to, you couldn’t help  _ but  _ feel intimidated by Lucifer’s presence alone. 

“ _ I.M.P.?”  _ he repeated, blinking, “Why, of  _ course _ I know about them - they’re that assassin group,” Luci glances at his claws boredly as if inspecting for any impurity, “Quite troublesome they are; if you want someone killed do it  _ yourself _ !” he declared, understanding that this will lead to more trouble… which he  _ wanted. _

“But I don’t want anyone killed,” you eased into the conversation, picking your piece and playing it. You supposed by his expression, you would have to elaborate. “I can’t remember who I was or what I  _ did _ to get down here,” you paused briefly, “all I have is a few pieces that, from my understanding, could have  _ nothing  _ to do with my death.” You rocked on your heels anxiously. 

“...I can’t spend an eternity down here not knowing who I was.” Despite what Husk had said, it was still very much an important fact that you stood by. 

He stared at you, those pin-pricks for pupils seemed to bore into your very soul, attempting to pick you apart - and he did so with ease, “An oversharer you are,” Lucifer’s hat was apparently slightly out of position because he adjusted it, treating the conversation as if it were mundane and unimportant. 

You frowned and he squinted in delight, taking satisfaction in your discontent with how the conversation was going. 

Charlie sent you a worried look, placing a hand on your shoulder as if she could sense your discomfort, “But that’s not the point,” he waved his hand, “You’re trying to understand your  _ past?”  _ he questioned, delicately holding that odd cane.

“...Yes.” 

“How  _ adorable,”  _ he sneered, “Not many  _ demons _ are concerned of such a thing, you know?” Lucifer rose a brow.

You didn’t respond, your face twisting. You weren’t a child— you didn’t need to be called  _ adorable.  _ The way that these self-entitled  _ demons  _ addressed you wanted you to want to kick them off their high-horse and get them off their damn throne.

You released a huff, crossing your arms. “That’s why I want to know why  _ I’m _ down here.” You weren’t a ‘ _ normal’  _ demon, you supposed. Your case was a bit more complicated.

“And you’re turning to this…” he rolled his hand, “ _ assassin group?”  _ Lucifer questioned, not even offering you a second glance.

_ Oh.  _ Your face warmed in embarrassment once again at the fact that while you were an ‘oversharer’, you had forgotten the fact of the reasoning why you chose them to begin with. “They have a portal to the human realm.” Charlie raised her eyebrows then, looking down at you, but she decided to remain wholly quiet  _ for now. _

His expression twisted into a mischievous one, “A portal to the human realm…?” Lucifer knew only very specific entities had such an access;  _ Stolas was an idiot to be sure - “ _ And when will you be… attempting this  _ little rendezvous? _ ” He smiled, baring his sharp teeth at you. 

“ _ And with no money ...? _ ”

The blood drained from your face, confidence already  _ way  _ out the door. “Ha, well you see—“ you rubbed the back of your neck, entirely too uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. “... _ Debt is always an option. _ ” You whispered under your breath, avoiding both Charlie and Lucifer’s gaze. 

Charlie bit her lip, “I could pay for it,” she declared, earning a small frown from her father - “It’s the least you deserve, for being such a hard worker… and a good friend.” 

You looked up at her with wide eyes,  _ wanting  _ to decline the offer,  _ wanting  _ to work for it— but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.  _ Did that make you selfish? _ The thought did not bode well with you; your lips parted just slightly as if wanting to respond. 

You didn’t get the chance. 

_ Oh, this was just precious, “ _ So you’re staff,” he responded, blatantly ignoring Charlie’s wholesomeness, “And… that’s not going to go over well, the imp that runs the place is positively greedy! A con-artist, a scammer.  _ Charlie should know better.”  _ He jabbed.

“Oh, this should be fun to see!” The little man clasped his claws together, another muffled scream tearing through the walls, he looked pleased, leaning on his cane. A moment of silence passed and he only glanced between you and Charlie as if you two were insane.

“ _ Well?”  _ he dragged a claw through the air, through the atmosphere and slicing the very fabric of the room to his will - creating some sort of opening, a passageway, “What are we waiting for?” Lucifer grinned, ushering both of his company through in a particularly excited way - he could  _ taste  _ the failure, surely to come.

You stared at the pulsing  _ portal _ with wide eyes, a gust of air blowing your hair and ruffling your clothes before you took a step back. Charlie looked back at you. “No thanks,” you said after a moment, rubbing your arm anxiously. You felt queasy staring at the portal— you could  _ feel _ the emptiness that oozed out of it. “I um, I’ll find another way—”

“— _ Too late!” _ He cackled, pulling you through by your shirt with Charlie following suit - his claws so sharp, causing tears where they grasped. 

The journey - and a journey it was, or  _ felt  _ like _ \-  _ was utterly sickening, as if all your senses had become disorientated and were plagued with the most beautiful scenery you’d seen; twisting hues of color, an utterly fantastical display veiled over your vision as a  _ devil  _ pulled you through - your  _ lifeline  _ in this situation, as he seemed to be the only thing guiding you through this odd wonderland. Though it felt like several moments, it was truly a blip in the timeline- you’d immediately emerged upon entering, this time in a  _ different _ place. 

You stumbled forward with a gasp, eyes wide; mind a jumbled mess and confused as time caught up with your existence.

The front of the Hotel greeted you, it’s lights stunning along the entrance and its  _ limo  _ greeting the three of you. Lucifer’s grasp no longer fitted over you, instead clasped around his cane as an annoyed expression crossed over his features. Your hands rested on your knees as a heavy breath escaped you; ruffled from literally being pulled through space itself. 

Charlie nor Lucifer appeared dazed, causing you to believe it was more common of a transportation than you originally believed.

“I-“ you started, cutting yourself off right after. It felt like your atoms were piecing themselves back together— it would never be something you could  _ get used to.  _ Like hell you would ever do that again. “I don’t want to do that again,” you wheezed, finally regaining enough stability to stand up straight again, blinking rapidly.

Charlie came to your side in case you lost your balance. She remembered her first time using an interdimensional rift like it was yesterday— the memory clear and fond in her mind. She had been enticed to go through it, only to be surprised by her mother gifting her Razzle and Dazzle on the other side.

Of course, her mother was far too busy these days— being a famous singer in Hell as well as the wife to Lucifer made her schedule  _ packed _ . Perhaps that was why she so rarely returned her calls. The blonde woman looked down at you then, offering her presence as a comfort.

_ You were a good friend.  _

You didn’t deserve what was happening to you. She felt guilt at just letting everything play out and remaining on the back burner. There was not much she  _ could  _ do. Alastor and you needed to fix your dilemma yourselves. In her own belief, Charlie was fully aware of the fact that you could figure it out yourself. You were one of the strongest demons she had ever met, mentally. 

If it were her in that situation, she would have broken down long ago.

Nevertheless, she understood chasing after something that mirrored a dream. Her dream was to run a successful hotel— yours was to find out who you once were. Your past, your present, and your future as well. 

If she had to pay a scam artist to help you along, she would.  _ Friends  _ were few and far between for Charlie, though, she was glad that she had met you. Her life would be a lot less interesting if you hadn’t shown up with Angel. 

Fate was a fickle thing, but it sparked a sensation of hope deep in her bones that you had a bigger part to play than any of them could ever realize— and perhaps you never would. It felt foreign to think of a hotel without you in it; just as much as it would have been without Angel Dust, Husk, Vaggie, or yes, even  _ Alastor _ by her side. 

_ You were family.  _

“The damn limo driver  _ quit?”  _ Lucifer seethed, peeking at a pink sticky note stuck to the outside of the front window - he scoffed, the little man shaking his head disapprovingly, “ _ Might have to pay him a visit later… _ ” he mumbled, spinning on his heel to face his two companions. 

Your attention was pulled to him warily.  _ Why couldn’t you have just walked?  _ You were right outside of the hotel anyway— it wasn’t like you had gone  _ far.  _ It was then and  _ only  _ then when you recalled the fact that you had  _ told _ him there had been  _ construction  _ going on. For the third time that afternoon, you made a face; a habit you had begun to pick up.

“ _ Oh,  _ what’s that face for,  _ miss-sss-y?” _ Lucifer inquired; a  _ snake’s  _ tongue darting out of his mouth dangerously, mood flatlined and turned bitter due to the recent development. A long, comical sigh escaped him -  _ the devil was surely expressive.  _

Before you could respond, a silken glove waved dismissively, targeted at the annoyance -  _ you  _ \- as he plucked the sticky note from the window in the most curt of mannerisms. Re-reading it multiple times, he shook his head, “ _ This won’t do.”  _ Mumbling, he’d tried the door handle.  _ Locked _ . 

Charlie and you stared on silently, sharing a concerned glance to each other as you watched him peer into the limousine’s front seat.

_ Damn, no keys.  _

Lucifer cleared his throat, straightening out his elegant attire as if preparing to perform for an audience, sparing a glance accompanied with a _ dazzling _ razor smile. 

He  _ reached through the window,  _ claws outstretched and coming to scramble for some sort of leverage -  _ something.  _ Your mouth had parted slightly at the fact that it was  _ a solid  _ he managed to phase through. And then you remembered the painting. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you found yourself.

A few staggering moment passed, a few aggravated huffs escaping the little man during this escapade; the devil paraded upon his toes, attempting to gain a better angle, a string of curses spilling. 

A pleased expression briefly crossed his face, a hum spilling from his grin.

_ ‘Click’ _

You watched as he pulled his arm from out of the  _ glass _ , swinging the door open. Turning to Charlie who didn’t exactly look  _ fazed  _ by this turn of events, you voiced your question aloud: 

“Is he  _ driving?” _

“I  _ guess _ so...” Charlie responded slowly, causing your attention to falter back towards the ruler of Hell. The look that you were met with caused chills to run up your spine, your comfort levels ceasing to exist completely. His stare  _ frightened  _ you - it’s maliciousness expertly masqueraded beneath mirthfulness, his temptation teased with tongue, sliding viciously over those teeth.

_ At least they weren’t piss yellow.  _

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat, tearing your gaze away and remaining rooted to the spot. It was as if his stare  _ commanded  _ you to remain still, and the awkwardness (more so to you) in the air made you shrink back into your own damn soul. You felt incredibly  _ small  _ in that moment, and it was only when Charlie took a step forward did whatever had  _ happened  _ eased up. 

Needless to say, you followed after her like a lost dog.

“We appreciate this, dad. Thank you.” 

It was odd seeing Charlie so…  _ composed.  _ You had an inkling it had to do with the fact that the two of you had just  _ barely  _ managed to escape his disappointment of the mess the lobby surely was at that point. 

Said father nodded in Charlie’s direction with the epitome of a gentleman,  _ “It’s my pleasure, dear.”  _ When Charlie falls into the back seat, you’re nearly about to go to the other side when your gaze flickers to the devil once more. He possessed an  _ expectant  _ expression, and you paused mid-step when you realized he was holding  _ the door open for you.  _ The blood drained from your face. 

You glanced back at Charlie with wide eyes, “A-are you sure you don’t want to sit with your daughter?”  _ Oh please say he was motioning with a claw for Charlie and not you. God forbid.  _ You were met with an impossibly large, haunting grin as he continued to beckon for  _ you.  _

The sound of a door slamming from behind you caused your attention to falter towards whoever it was. A particularly ruffled  _ Husk  _ emerged from the confines of the lobby, venturing out into the biting cold. Clasped in his paw was one of the larger bottles of alcohol, and you manage to notice that it was the more  _ expensive brand _ Alastor had hidden in the kitchen.  _ He had found it. _

You were mildly surprised at his determination, considering the fact that he was so incredibly lazy.

The winged feline froze in mid-step, his entirely too grumpy eyes coming to recognize you before falling on Charlie and then finally Lucifer’s looming presence.  _ His kitten senses had been tingling -  _ an unnatural, perhaps borderline  _ supernatural  _ force had bothered him further, which was a feat in itself. Slowly he ventured towards you, voicing his gruff discontent with the cold  _ and  _ whatever the fuck was going on:

“ _ What the fuck?”  _

Lucifer burst out into a hearty laughter at Husk’s utterly confused expression as well as his incredibly bold remark - he always did enjoy forthright people! Needless to say, you took a step forward to Husk, finding comfort in the new company. 

“You’re goin’  _ now?”  _ Husk inquired down to you, gruffly and grumpily as always, his words betraying the disinterest he held in his expression. He ignored the ray of sunshine that stood just next to the door. You offered a weak nod, and he blinked, a rumble escaping his throat as he wordlessly went to the other side of the limo and took a seat with Charlie. It was a tight fit considering the fact that his wings were large, untameable things. He complained the entire time.

_ “Wonderful!”  _ Lucifer exclaimed at the unsaid fact that he would have even  _ more  _ entertainment, clasping his claws together in a pleased way. He watched in amusement as the demon struggled to fit inside of the door - like  _ hell  _ Husk would sit next to the  _ devil;  _ you could take that bullet for yourself.

_ Speak of the devil,  _ he swiveled around, impatiently tapping his claws along the roof, accompanied with a tilt of his head;  _ you still weren’t in the front seat.  _ In perhaps a vain attempt to soothe your woes, he stepped back and went to the other side of the transportation vehicle, situating himself in the driver’s seat. He tossed you a  _ daring  _ look your way before falling out of view, hidden to the confines of the limousine.

Charlie and Husk exchanged a glance in the back seat, the blonde wordlessly questioning the feline’s sudden hospitality and willingness to participate in such…  _ chaotic things.  _

“Better than the fuckin’ lobby.” He grumbled, tipping the large bottle into his grimace.

With a small uncomfortable noise, your ankles were released from the proverbial idea of ‘chains’, and you hesitantly walked to the door, leaning down and peering down at the seat as if expecting something that was simply not there. 

Lucifer slithered from his seat, coming to lean across - sliding his claws across and patting the seat almost  _ seductively _ , as if taunting your cautious demeanor.

Your shoulders slumped, a light sigh falling from your lips as you finally ducked down and took the seat for yourself. Buckling yourself in, you found yourself  _ unnerved  _ at the proximity Lucifer and you shared, your body stiffening as you leaned back into the leather. Placing your hands on your lap, you supposed that the presence of Husk and Charlie just a ways behind you comforted you more than words could say; and for that, you relaxed only  _ slightly. _

_ They wouldn’t let anything happen to you. _

The car didn’t move. Suddenly remembering that there were no  _ keys,  _ you look over to the ignition lock and confirm your memory by that alone. You were about to comment on it when a  _ claw  _ was pressed to your  _ lips.  _ Your eyes widened and you leaned back, confusion and attentivity skyrocketing. 

Lucifer let you do so, he was a  _ gentleman,  _ not a beast -  _ well, only when he wanted to be. _ Oh, but it was so tantalizing to provoke the little thing further, such entertainment to be had!

”Just start the fuckin’ car already--” Husk grumbled and Charlie nudged him painfully, he sputtered out a ‘ _ sir _ ’ and almost spilled his liquor. His frown deepened.

The top-hatted menace leaned back and pointed a finger accusingly skyward, “ _ Limousine,  _ kitty-cat,” he spoke, gazing in the rearview mirror with a narrow of his eyes at Husk - whose fur stood on end,  _ was he being scolded? Was this what it felt like?  _ You peered back as well, eyebrows raised.

Charlie waved at you from her position, and you couldn’t help but let a small smile form upon your lips. 

That face-splitting grin was back again, stretching Lucifer’s pepperoni cheeks. Husk’s claws coming to flex and apparently  _ raise a middle finger;  _ your expression dampened into an offended one, face contorting into displeasure at the recent development. A moment passed, a heavy silence, before, to your utmost surprise,  _ Lucifer returned the gesture.  _

Husk choked on his liquor, nearly spitting it out  _ all  _ over the leather seats. An exclaim from Charlie came next, and your eyes ventured to the devil, brows knitted and your lip twitching in the first shows of amusement. Perhaps it was best that Lucifer was…  _ laid-back  _ in such a way that he did not smite the first individual who dared to question him or his decisions,  _ rudely.  _

With a wicked smile, Lucifer turned back around to reposition himself into the seat, plunging a claw into the ignition and turning it in a specific way that would reenact as some sort of  _ key.  _ The original went unneeded as the limo roared to life, causing the entirety of his company to jump out of their skin, or in Husk’s case,  _ fur.  _

Said demon was positively  _ stumped  _ by such magic, “The shit? What was  _ that?”  _ He sounded like a drunkard grandfather, mumbling over each method that could accommodate for the madness that had ensued with wide eyes. Charlie seemed  _ giddy,  _ her excitement hardly contained. About time. The nervousness had only managed to make  _ you  _ nervous, and upon noticing that both of your…  _ friends _ . 

_ Oh, she had seen that trick more times than she could count!  _

She was particularly fond of the idea that both of you had the luck  _ and  _ privilege of witnessing it first-hand! A small giggle escaped her.

“There’s no need to be frightened,  _ my dear!”  _ Lucifer exclaimed jovially, and perhaps with a bit of  _ cringiness.  _ His  _ posh daddy laugh _ attempted to warm the tension, and he tossed you a  _ wink  _ in which you scrunched your nose.

_ “Let’s get this show on the road!” _

Amidst the jovialness, a  _ shadow  _ lingered - hidden, secluded,  _ thoughtful _ . Within the deeper confines of the city, he was a passing apparition one would see for a brief moment; a wandering demon masqueraded as a lost soul, striding through the harshness with resolve -  _ thinking,  _ attempting to conclude the actions past… frustration never bubbling, inner machinations never stopping as  _ Alastor  _ thought long and desperately about  _ you. _

  
That sickening grin crossed his features, his posture proud and domineering as his harmonious hums echoed throughout the long and shadowy alleyways, taking long strides  _ back where he came. _


	26. Road Work Ahead? Yeah, I sure hope it does!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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The worm was alive. 

It twitched and writhed the moment that the limousine hit a bump in the asphalted road; _ or perhaps that was just another demon, _ and you wanted to _ scream._ Your eyes remained trained on the fat, sluggish creature, watching it with an intensity that could burn holes straight through the hat it resided upon. Whether it was just a sick trick being played upon your unsuspecting eyes or if this man had an actual _ worm _on his head, was something that would forever remain unknown to you. 

You didn’t _ want _to know. 

The devil’s grin extended upon feeling your eyes on him, and you flinched when the pinpricks of his own peered at you from below a lidded gaze. “Something wrong with your eyes?” He jabbed, drumming his fingers alongside the leathered wheel. You stiffened, never once letting go of your fixation falter of the worm. 

“I-_“ _

He hummed, narrowing his gaze as he turned his attention back to the road when you began to search for the right words to say. “_Speak up. _ You look like a suffocating fish_.” _His lips pulled at his grin in a haughty sneer. 

“I-It’s _ alive?” _You choked out at last.

“Why, yes it is!” His sneer turned into an excitable grin, puffing out his chest in a manner of pride. “What do you take me as, little girl? An uncultured swine that wears taxidermy?” He leaned sideways then, his hat unhinging from his head as it got caught on the roof of the expensive limousine, never taking his eyes off of the road. 

“Isn’t it neat?_” _

Well, you wouldn’t call a worm _ neat,_ but to each their own you supposed. You cleared your throat, offering a quick agreement despite the grimace that adorned your features. Lucifer readjusted his hat as he returned to his original position, you yourself being left to blink owlishly before leaning back against the seat, biting your lip anxiously. 

Needless to say, you turned your attention to the window soon after.

The sights that passed you by were interesting enough to capture your attention. It was _ especially _ engrossing to note that there weren’t just _ cities. _ There were mountains, swamps, oceans, a plethora of different biomes that made you question if this was some sort of different world instead of just a place your soul had been laid to rest. You didn’t feel dead— you felt very much _ alive. _

In fact, you never felt more exhilarated with the desire to keep yourself alive. But that would defeat the purpose of an afterlife, wouldn’t it? The concept was confusing to you, and you felt as if you would drive yourself insane trying to break it all apart one by one. 

Some sights were pretty, if not a bit red.

Husk had found himself in a slumped position upon the leather seats, wings unfurled and effectively stretching out within the space of said limousine. He essentially began swigging alcohol in a repetitive motion throughout the entirety of the ride, caring less and less about taking up less space the more drunk he got. 

He continued practicing his slothful desires of comfort as Charlie had taken up residence advantageously upon the seat just behind yours, mother-henning Husk about the dangers of continuous drinking. He responded with flat, grumpy answers that made less sense the more intoxicated he became. 

“This silence is _ astounding.” _ Lucifer piped up, his grin extending as he took his hands _ off _of the wheel and reached over to mess with the radio. Upon realization of what had happened as the limousine jerked off-course, Charlie and you yelling out simultaneously. 

“_Dad, watch the road!” _

With a wave of his hand, the transportation vehicle righted itself, your nails gripping into the leather as the radio spurred the life, static waves fluctuating randomly as he searched through channels. 

_ So, the car ride was going great. _

The sound that graced the speakers eventually trickled into a cheery brightness that made you want to shield your eyes and step into the flames that assuredly would swallow you whole from the noise berating your ears.

Polka music.

There was a sound of a bottle shattering as it hit the back of Lucifer’s chair, glass shards inbedding into the leather. “Turn that shit _ off.” _Husk gruffly remarked, sounding very much like he regretted coming in the first place.

You however, had managed to let the up-beat sound usher you into a state of happiness. Unbeknownst to you, the silence had bothered you more than words could have ever described. Your grip relaxed on the leather slightly, bringing your hands to your lap. 

“Charlie, I like your friends!” Lucifer stated humorously, eyes crinkling despite the fact that there was glass all over the back of the car and some even caught in his hat.

He didn’t seem remotely worried or fazed.

Charlie laughed nervously, rubbing her hand across her forehead as she tried to get Husk to calm down enough so he didn’t claw his ears out. 

Being intoxicated and annoyed over the fact that he didn’t have more liquor was never a good combination of feelings. Husk grumbled such claims under his breath.

“It’s not _ that _bad, Husk,” you state softly then, peering back at them as Charlie shot you a relieved smile at your attempt of appeasing the situation that had arisen. 

“Yeah, well when you have fuckin’ ears that can hear,” he paused, hiccuping as his brain lagged, “—when, uh, you can hear things that you don’t _ want _to hear, let me know.” That made no sense but you nodded anyway in an attempt to placate the drunk. 

To Husk, it sounded like he had just recited the entire Declaration of Independence, and for him, that was fine. What _ wasn’t _ fine was the polka swing music that was amplified from the shape of his ears.

_ It was times like these where he hated being a cat demon. _

You blinked back at him before turning your attention to Charlie who offered you a reassuring smile. _ She had been dealing with shit like this for longer than you had existed. _

It was… difficult to wrap your head around everything that had happened, everything that was _ about _ to occur. Your mind had begun to block out the more traumatic experiences you had the _ pleasure _of taking in, storing them away for a later time when you were in a… better place.

It was a lot easier to forget about Alastor than you had originally believed to be true. 

Husk had somehow passed out in that brief lapse of attention causing you to relax slightly in relief that he would stop complaining. 

A breath fell from your lips, the action causing a stray hair to blow in front of your face. Slowly, you turned back around and slumped into your seat, repositioning yourself slightly out of discomfort from the fact that you had remained in that place for about an hour at that point.

The polka music had begun to fade out as your thoughts became loud, leaning against the door and pushing your cheek against the chilly window. Your breath made a fogginess curl around the glass before fading out into the atmosphere once more. 

Other than the polka music and the loud snoring of Husk in the background, you couldn’t help but falter in the tension of your shoulders; your eyes trailing against the buildings and demons that whizzed past you. 

_ Were you doing the right thing? _

_ Was there even a ‘right’ thing down here? _

Your thoughts were wild, those only to name a few. Despite it being _ too _ easy to forget about the Radio Demon, you couldn’t help but feel _ guilt _over the fact that he hadn’t known— the thought of that ever present smile vanishing never ceased to make your stomach curl in the most unpleasant of ways, knotting and returning the tension in your shoulders for the briefest of moments.

You held onto the worry that your words would have caused a massacre of sorts. In whatever way he chose to deal with his problems, _ and boy did he have a lot, _was of no worry to you. 

You just hoped he would get the message and do it _ away _from you. 

Without a care for your privacy, much like Alastor, Lucifer had been digging into your thoughts and broken woes— a perk of being such a demon of _ high _ caliber. 

His grin had turned mischievous at the thought of such a mortal demon; a respect was to be had at an individual who had managed to become powerful enough to garner the attention of the council.

Knowing that Alastor was the root of your loss of enthusiasm simply by a few moments of sifting through your mind, he decided he wanted to _ stir things up. _

“_ So, _ Charlie, how is your hotel holding up!” A loud statement that made you jump slightly, successfully pulling you out of your rather _ depressive _ thoughts. Lucifer didn’t seem to be finished, however, much to your utter disappointment to follow, and you peered back over between Charlie and him. It wasn’t your conversation _ yet _ , but you _ were _part of the hotel.

If anything, you had as much say about how it was turning out as Charlie did. 

Lucifer side-eyed you for the briefest of moments before turning his attention back to the road: “I heard that the _ Radio Demon _ has come to offer you his assistance?” His grin extended at the turn of events.

_ The ride had begun to be such a bore. _

You felt your face lose complexion, stiffening in your seat as your fingertips twitched at your side. Discomfort manifested in the purest form of nausea at the fact that the conversation just so _ ironically _ had turned to the _ one who should not be named. _

But he dared anyway. 

Your thoughts had been private, ones that were very briefly even thought about— just enough to possibly begin to sort through that shitstorm. But that was possibly the shittiest storm that you had the unasked privilege of partaking in. How _ coincidental, _you mused.

“Uh, _ well…” _Charlie twiddled her thumbs, her ‘impeccable improv skills’ certainly coming to use as her mind blanked.

“Alastor has actually been a _ great _ help!” She chimed after a moment, stealing a glance to you in which you slumped further into the chair. Charlie released a quick breath, insistent on proving to her father that her dream wasn’t some shtick and she could _ do this. _

There was no need for an annual extermination. 

“Not only has he helped the hotel with staff and...attracting attention to potential guests, but he’s also formed a _ relationship _ with our dear employee! _ Yaaay… _” her voice trailed off and you never wanted to disappear more than in that moment. 

Lucifer must have had found said revelation _ hilarious _ because a loud laugh escaped him, drawing _ on and on _ as he rioted over the fact that the _ Radio Demon _ had created a relationship with _ you. _Your thoughts made sense now. 

His shoulders shook in delight as he regained composure, the limo swerving into the other lane for a moment before a loud horn effectively pulled the devil out of his mocking humor. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely certain of what this _ relationship _entailed, but by the appalled look on your face and the fact that you were desperately trying to bury yourself into the cushioning of the chair, it wasn’t hard to guess that it made you uncomfortable.

“Little girl-“ he chuckled that posh chuckle, shoulders shaking as he came down from his humored high. “Say it isn’t _ so!” _His grin was stretched to its limits, eyes crinkling from the amusement that glinted within those depths as he side-eyed you. You pushed yourself up slightly with a huff, leaning against the door once again.

“...I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

“Well, that’s just too _ bad!” _Lucifer chimed in with good nature, the thinly veiled threat that reminded you of his stance reinforcing the chills that threatened to run up your spine. 

His grin looked inhumanely sharp in that moment and you swallowed the knot that had begun to take residence in your throat. 

_ He was the Devil and he always got what he wanted. _

Charlie released a low noise as if sensing the sudden tension in the air, taking the initiative to reach across the chair in front of her and patting you on the shoulder for reassurance. 

She had unintentionally buried you into something not even _ she _ could dig you out of. When you sat up slightly, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness at the fact that he was prying at something you wanted to _ forget. _

In some ways, the devil reminded you of Alastor — they both never took ‘_ no’ _for an answer. 

“Don’t get cold feet on me, now!” He snapped his fingers as if giving you the cue to start talking. You didn’t want to find out what would happen if you didn’t. 

“Well, he’s _ creepy _ for one,” you look down at your hand, “He’s weird, strange, obsessed, _ disgusting.” _ You began to list all the _ bad _ traits about him, his actions of earlier seemed a thousand years away but also so _ raw. _

A hearty laugh escaped him. “Well, you’ve had quite the _ enjoyable _ start down here, haven’t you? _ ” _He shot you a wink, and you made a face at him in which his eyes returned to the road, half-lidded and satisfied with your reaction. 

“I remember when I met Lilith,” there was a glint in his eyes then— _ adoration. _Charlie leaned in, eager to hear the lovely story of the start of the creation of the world.

They had been together for the longest of eternities and they had a long while to go still. She had heard the story many times before and she hoped that it would be something that you could hear _ too. _

Even the most despicable of individuals, tainted souls without redemption, _ could love. _

“Though, I wouldn’t _ dream _ of boring you with such a tale.” He dismissed it as if it were unimportant. It was _ odd _ to note that the devil could _ love. _

Whatever advice had been veiled deep into his short words only managed to make you uncomfortable. He shook his head, before turning the volume up of the polka music, finding satisfaction in your discomfort and rather basic answers. 

He was nosy, but he knew when to _ stop _ unlike Alastor. 

Afterall, he had an innumerable amount of years against him regarding experience. Either he knew when to stop, your reaction had turned the mood sour enough to deter him from his entertainment, or _ he just didn’t care. _

Whatever it was, you were glad to be out of the spotlight.

With a shaky sigh, you drowned the conversation between Charlie and her father out, leaning your head against the window once again in defeat. 

The volume helped drown your thoughts, music enforcing your desire to _ remain _ thoughtless. Much to your utter disappointment, they still bubbled in slowly. Love and infatuation were two _ extremely _ different things— a crush was something you could deal with, but _ love? _

_ You were so tired. _

You began to focus your attention to the passing sights. 

The deeper circles of Hell were fancier, more _ classy _ . Though, it could only get _ so _ clean; there always seemed to be a limit of cleanliness. It looked like _ Earth _ from what little you could remember of it, and it made you feel _ homesick. _

A homesickness with an unknown home— _ ironic. _ It was odd to see the clock tower so far away; it didn’t feel too long that you had been back at the hotel, but from the darkening skies, you supposed you had been gone a lot _ longer _than you had originally thought. 

“Alastor told me there was an extermination annually.” You spoke up suddenly, cutting off the conversation as your eyes trained on the silhouette of said countdown. The reflection in the window told you that Charlie and Lucifer were looking at you, causing you to look back over at _ them. _

If you wouldn’t get answers from Alastor, you could try with them. 

Charlie appeared uncomfortable, Lucifer turning back to look at the road just as a demon began to walk out into the road without a care for their safety. The devil didn’t even honk, apparently without little care for their safety to begin with.

_ Their decision, their pain. _ A cruel world, but in his mind, a _ fair _one. Make stupid decisions, get equally idiotic outcomes. 

Lucifer’s grin extended maliciously as he pressed down on the pedal, the limo roaring down the road towards the unsuspecting individual. Right when Charlie and you had realized what exactly was happened and had yelled out at him for the _ second _time that day, he swerved out of the way at the last moment, leaving the demon in a cloud of dust and smoke from the tailpipe of the limousine.

Lucifer snickered malevolently. “Don’t be such a sour-puss, Charlie, I raised you better.” He sneered, causing you to turn to look out the window to the mirror, seeing the demon, unharmed but perhaps a bit shaken, flipping a middle finger at the car that had nearly decapitated them. He didn’t comment on _ you _, cut off from whatever insult when you clear your throat.

You hadn’t forgotten. You weren’t _ that _easy to deter.

“Well, the extermination is something that the hotel is _ for, _y’know?” Charlie started, causing you to look back at her by turning in your seat. “It’s uh, not that simple to say. To explain, I mean,” it was obvious that the topic caused ill feelings to surface. 

The polka music had lowered _ somehow _ without Lucifer even touching the radio, as if he were interested to see how Charlie would explain such a thing. Or perhaps he was just interested to hear her phrase it in _ her _ view. To him, the extermination was necessary - any daughter of his would need to _ toughen up _ in such a way that the ways of their world could and _ would _never change. 

But Charlie had her mother’s stubbornness. _ Insufferable, truly. _An embarrassment of the council and hierarchy.

What Lucifer thought was insufferable, you found admirable. You blinked up at the blonde woman, interest piqued. 

At the sudden attention, Charlie shifted in her seat as if that would give her a better advantage of explaining it better. You took that moment to look back at the passed out drunk who had sprawled out across one section of the leather seats, a string of drool connecting him further to said limousine, small snores escaping him. 

“Al was right in saying that it happened annually. The extermination is to help the overpopulation problem in Hell.” She explained, “However, I think there is a more… _ peaceful _alternative, and you’re helping that dream become a reality.” She beamed at you appreciatively, and you raised your eyebrows at her. 

You felt… _ better _, somewhat. But it wasn’t simple to explain it just as that. 

“Who does it?” 

“The Exterminators.” She stated.

Heaven suddenly didn’t sound too _ pure. _

“...They come down from Heaven to… _ help.” _ She continued, her expression telling you that she didn’t really think it was _ helpful _ in the sense that it didn’t really fix things long term. “The only thing that can actually _ kill _ a demon are their weapons. After the extermination, tools can be found and sold on the black market.” 

It was always so painful to know that the wrong demons did in fact have the chance to have something so powerful in their possession.

You blinked, mewling over your thoughts silently, mind suddenly blank for the longest of moments.

“So… there’s death after death?” Your face scrunched up in confusion, and Charlie looked over to father after a moment. Without even _ looking _ at her, his grin widened as if he had been _ waiting _to describe such a dangerous situation. 

“An eternal void of nothingness, always conscious, floating in your lonesome,” he began to state the most terrifying facts that you decided you wished you never asked for. 

Wondering how he _ knew _ such things was a common inquiry, but you supposed even the basic of life forms could figure out that Lucifer _ would _know such things. 

“Such a _ fun _ time, wouldn’t you agree?” 

You remained silent, discomfort levels at an all time high as he squinted in earnest. His slitted eyes flickered over to the fuel gauge then, the sudden blinking red light signaling that their voyage would need a pit stop.

Lucifer’s face contorted into one of strained displeasure at the fact that there needed to be a pause in their adventure, but upon muttering under his breath, he made headway for the nearest gas station. He could map this part of Hell out with his _ eyes _closed— such a whimsical part of town. 

The gas station was as run down as you would _ expect _ a pit stop in Hell to be; the sign was misspelled, humorously missing a light in one letter and causing it to say ‘Ass Shop’. Your lips contorted into a small smile, a breath of amusement escaping you— oh, if only Angel were here. Though, you guessed one of the reasons Husk had come anyway was to get _ away _from the effeminate arachnid. You didn’t blame him, though. 

You understood on a scarily personal level.

Said demon grumbled awake from his _ cat nap _ , blinking tiredly out of the window as he tried to get comprehension of where he was. The small side-store lit up with _ ‘Liquor’ _, as lazy as that name was, immediately garnered his attention, the feline sitting up so quickly that his head slammed against the roof of the limousine. 

You looked back at the _ thump _, watching him rub his head with a string of curses escaping his eternal frown. 

You decided not to say anything, and by the time Lucifer pulled next to a gas pump, you had returned to your original position. There was a moment of hesitation and silence before the doors opened simultaneously with a wave of Lucifer’s hand. _ The powers that some demons possessed would never not surprise you. _

“Shoo.” Lucifer made the motion with his hand, eliciting the three of you to unbuckle yourselves and escape the vehicle. Your legs felt like jelly, and you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t lean against the limo for support, because _ you did. _ At the movement, however, you stomach had _ also _made itself known to you, grumbling and ultimately reminding you that you had not eaten. 

Husk sauntered over time the liquor store almost immediately.

“I love this part of town,” Charlie beamed at you, causing you to look up at her after almost immediately. Her smile was contagious, the lightness of her voice easing the stress upon your shoulders just slightly. She waved you to follow her after stretching herself.

You followed. 

“Dad used to take me to his meetings a lot when I was younger, it’s not much to _ look _ at,” she referenced the run down shop, pushing open the door, entering and holding it open for you with one hand. A bell chimed at your entrance. It seemed musky and like _ cigarettes. _

“But I have a lot of memories,” she sighed longingly, “and I take whatever good ones I can get.” You weren’t sure what to say, so you simply offered her a genuine smile. Sometimes silence was better than any sort of response.

Your eyes danced across the shelves of the different foods, blinking as she turned to you with a flourish. 

“You can get what you want. My treat.” 

_ She had already done so much for you _ . You weren’t sure how to respond a _ second _ time, at a loss for words. “You know, um, Charlie, you don’t have to pay for all of this. The _ I.M.P—” _Your fingers flexed at your side almost nervously and Charlie took a step forward, placing her hands on your shoulders in a comforting motion. 

“I know. But you’ve been through a lot,” her tone turned serious then. “It’s the _ least _ I can do, so please let me do it.” You blinked up at her, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as you scanned her sincere expression. You nodded hesitantly and she grinned, as if _ excited _ to be able to help you with _ something. _Your other case was something that, unfortunately, you would have to deal with yourself. 

There was only so much she could do, even as the Princess of Hell.

After a long moment of remaining in that position, she let you go and the two of you looked through the shelves. There were bags of different items scattered through the floor, the frozen packages not exactly… _ frozen _. You grab a few bags of chips for the road, a granola bar for Husk, and, just as you were about to go to the counter and wait for Charlie, you passed the produce section. 

An apple. 

You grabbed that too. Despite the discomfort the devil caused you, he was still Charlie’s father and he was _ driving _ you to your destination. You could make room for a bit of thoughtfulness. At the counter, a sloth-like demon with razor teeth— that didn’t make a lick of sense but _ who were you to judge _ —scanned the items tiredly and _ exceedingly slowly. _

Charlie drummed her fingers on the table anxiously before grabbing the items, leaning over, and scanning them _ for _them. The demon stared at her quietly for a second, and Charlie beamed down at them. Needless to say, the two of you were ushered out of the shop soon after out of annoyance. You thanked the blonde demon and she replied with a smile, swinging her bags almost joyfully.

By the time they return to the car, Lucifer was already sitting in the seat, Husk still nowhere to be found. You pull the door open and settle down, reaching into the bag and grabbing out the apple. The sound that met your ears at the sight of such a tantalizing fruit both surprised you and humored you. _ Excited delightfulness. _

“Here, um, as a thanks for driving us.” You offered the apple to him. 

He didn’t respond verbally, eyes glinting and shining as if he were bouncing in his seat as if you had just given him a lottery ticket that had _ won _. His clawed hand took the apple in his grasp and you watched in horror as the next moments played out. You stared with large eyes.

Lucifer leaned back, opening his mouth and _ unhinging _ his jaw in an effort to swallow the apple whole like the _ monster _ he was. Sure, he could have eaten it like a normal fucking person, but _ what fun would that be? _He watched your expression the entire time, taking pleasure in your thoughts of internal screaming.

His snake tongue flickered over his teeth _ at _you.

You gulped, looking away at that moment and taking a sigh of relief at the sight of Husk returning to the car with _ multiple _bottles of liquor in his paws. Charlie nearly had a conniption at the sight of it before realizing her efforts would be futile if she were to try to get him to quit his habits.

_ It was something they would have to work on. _

You squeeze open a bag of chips with a loud _ pop, _ immediately delving into appeasing your hunger, you appetite once again returning. Once Husk stumbled into the limousine at last, you reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the granola bar. Turning in place, you snapped your fingers for his attention because you _ did not _want to talk with your mouth full. 

He looked between the granola bar and then you, expression contorted into annoyance as if you were beckoning him like a _ dog. _Being a feline, that was the worst insult of them all. Begrudgingly, he whisks the granola bar from you, grumbling under his breath that the ‘audacity of some people’ or something or another. 

Your thoughtfulness was staggering. 

The return to the road was peaceful enough, the polka returning into the speakers much to Husk’s utter demise. At the very least, he now had his alcohol to intoxicate him to the point of no return. Cheap booze often had that effect; downing it quicker and quicker with each bottle as if it were the end of the fucking world. 

Conversations were had, some silly, some actually eliciting _ laughter _from you, some taking a twisted and darker turn and Lucifer kept everyone on their toes for his own leisure. 

The further into the circles of Hell you traveled, the more the shadows seemed to contort around the world. Late afternoon, evening, night. Your attention had turned to the hovering moon-like disc that hovered high in the sky, a halo silhouetting it. 

You couldn’t help but feel the intensity of the brightness was to ensure the fact that the denizens of Hell wouldn’t forget where they were. A _ tease. _

Perhaps Heaven wasn’t as light-hearted as you had originally been raised to believe.

The polka began to fade off as you leaned against your arm just upon the window sill of the door. You weren’t even sure when you had drifted off to sleep, but when you did, for the first time that week, you felt _ at ease. _


	27. Meeting The Professionals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Friday's chapter! Enjoy!
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Fatigue had begun to unravel from your mind as consciousness had begun to swell in the depths; dreams almost peaceful and less chaotic than the norm. You wouldn’t have minded staying in that state with a lack of awareness if it were not for the manner in which you were suddenly awoken. It wasn’t a  _ pleasant  _ way and one that would no doubt leave a bruise upon your ribs by the sheer force of the movement.

No, in fact, Lucifer had come to the decision to get one last gag for that specific car ride. By slamming his foot down on the break as they reached their destination, his actions successfully jerked you from your sleep. A gasp flew from your lips, being cut off by the seat belt that locked you in place, securing you in such a manner so that you wouldn’t go flying through the glass window. 

“ _ Early bird gets the worm!”  _ The devil sang out cheerfully. 

The limousine stuttered to a halt, your back slamming against the leather seat as Lucifer snickered to himself at the visible emotions contorting upon your expression. Shock, concern, confusion, and then finally exasperation in that particular order as you realized exactly what just happened. It went without saying that you never snapped out of your state of torpor so quick. 

You slumped into the seat with a sigh, rubbing your hands down your face. Charlie had already been awake at that point, and she offered you a small ‘good morning’. 

You returned the greeting with less enthusiasm; her happiness contagious enough to a  _ point  _ to hype you up for the upcoming moments. Only when you had finished running your hands down your face did it click where you were. You didn’t recognize it, of course not, but the sign that read  _ ‘Free _ _ Murder Estate Here!’ _ in some sort of sick joke regarding free real estate made your lip twitch. 

The ‘free’ was crossed out with what you hoped was red paint, but you were more than prepared to face the truth that it wasn’t. 

You forced yourself to be. 

From what you could see from your position, the office (the thought of professionalism being performed by a bunch of sinners and demons was a bit humorous, you found) building was worn down enough to be noticeable, but not enough to bring you a worry that it would crash upon you in a heap of rubble. But then again, this was Hell, and not everything was what it _seemed. _

Your annoyance fizzled out quickly once your thoughts moved to more personal matters. It had occurred to you in that moment that while Lucifer remained in the front seat, that he had driven without rest. You couldn’t help but feel a bit… _touched. _Though, his curled grin and lidded eyes that scanned the building in front of the still running limousine caused a sensation of wariness to crawl up your spine. _What did he have to gain out of this? _

Was it just to have a laugh?

Did he do this just to have a story to tell at the dinner table? 

The worry of it being a veiled attempt to jab at Charlie’s progress, or lack thereof, caused you to steal a glance at the blonde woman in the backseat who was now scribbling down on a pink post-it note to attach somewhere. Husk, despite being victim to the rude awakening, had somehow slept through the entirety of it. 

You watched in bleeding curiosity as Charlie scribbled down the finale of words, posting it on the drunk feline’s hat. Despite your best efforts of trying to see what it said, you couldn’t make it out from the distance and the surprisingly fancy handwriting. Charlie noticed your expression and turned to you after a moment. 

“I’m letting him sleep,” she lowered her voice, “he drank the rest of the alcohol last night anyway, so…” You picked you what she laid down. It probably wouldn’t be best to have an already grumpy cat without what he so desperately nursed on a constant daily timeline. You nodded silently before turning back around. 

Lucifer was fixing his bow and hat in the rear view mirror before moving to unlock the doors. Sticking a claw into the ignition once again, he turned off the limousine before clasping his hands together delightedly. “Well! Let’s get a move on, children.”

_ Children?  _

You made a face. You supposed it made sense, considering he was  _ eons _ old— of course he would consider you a  _ child.  _ Pushing open the door, you unbuckled yourself and stepped out. The air was musty, stale. There was a stench that you couldn’t exactly place; but it basically clarified the fact that, if it hadn’t already been apparent, that this was a run down city. 

Upon entering the building, you were greeted with the scent of old avocado salad and  _ disappointment.  _ Each step that Lucifer took was marked by a tell-tale tap of his cane, and it took you a moment to drown it out to take a look at the interior. Bland, chipping grey paint; sparse gothic decorations. Some of the technology was… outdated, but you suppose it was because everything in Hell was made of less than appealing quality. 

Still a rather professional place.

There were a few posters, some curled at the edges, some called to the floor from lack of tackiness of the tape. One in particular caught your attention; a circus-themed poster that read in bold, meant-to-capture-attention print:  _ ‘INCREDIBLE! Blitzø, one night only! Tickets Now!’  _ You stared at it; the dark silhouette of the supposed Blitzø appearing far more sinister than  _ you _ would have advertised with.

It looked old. Worn. A memory of something too far in the past to remember properly but one too important to forget completely. 

You nearly walked straight into the back of Lucifer if it were not for Charlie’s hand grabbing your shoulder and bringing you back to your reality. You halted, tossing her a small bashful ‘thanks’ in which she nodded with a smile. Nervousness made its presence known in gooseflesh that danced across your skin, a transparent double door that had a painted arrow directly next to it, reading I.M.P. 

The paint had wept down the wall haphazardly, and you only tore your eyes back to the double doors when they were opened. The door was passed to you last, Charlie taking the initiative after her father as they escorted you in with surprising silence. The aroma of the old avocado salad hit you  _ hard;  _ your face crinkling up for a moment before a loud, audible scoff made your attention turn to what you supposed was the front desk. 

Loona found herself nonplussed to see Lucifer, unsure of how to accurately respond or react to a demon of such high caliber. Then her eyes trained onto you, completely ignoring Charlie in the process. You were the least eye catching of the trio, and the hellhound was entirely too reluctant to not believe that the voice from that weird ass telephone call she had received yesterday belonged to  _ you.  _

There was a long moment of silence. 

“Um, hi—“ You finally started, beginning to make your way towards her, only to be cut off by an edgy sneer. 

“Why do you smell like a fuckin’  _ cat?”  _ Loona growled, muzzle crinkling.

Your face contorted into confusion before realization settled in. You were about to give her an explanation of how you were in an enclosed space with one for such an incredible amount of time when Charlie strolled up next to you and placed her hands upon the desk. 

Loona’s eyes darted to the princess, muzzle relaxing  _ just  _ slightly. The hellhound remembered seeing her news broadcast, and her own mouth curled into a half-assed smile, leaning back into her chair and crossing her arms in the process.  _ This  _ should be good. 

“That’s unimportant. We have a meeting scheduled with…” Charlie glanced at the door behind Loona, mouth curling into her own polite if not a bit passive-aggressive smile. “Blitzø?” The blonde woman had always been protective of the ones she held near and dear to her heart. She also knew when other demons didn’t take them seriously. 

You were surprised at her intrusion, taking charge of the situation. You watched as she dug into her pocket, pulling out what looked to be an  _ incredibly  _ expensive credit card; you hadn’t even been aware that diamonds could even  _ be  _ integrated into the plastic.  _ The Magne Family Credit Card.  _ But that was a topic for another time. Charlie flashed the card before Loona could respond with an emo, thirteen-year old like response. 

“Payment will not be an issue.” She folded her hands together after returning the card to her pocket. When Charlie meant business,  _ she meant business.  _ She supposed she had her father to thank for that serious side of things. Her genuine goofy and fun-loving behavior was sweet, but you found yourself in awe at how quickly she could turn. 

Apparently these demons were scam artists, and Charlie was on high alert.

Loona looked between the two of you, eyes flickering to the devil who was messing around boredly with the trinkets that adorned the tables before groaning, leaning her head back. This meant she had to do  _ actual  _ work today. 

_ “BLITZØ!”  _

Her yell was just as obnoxiously loud as it had been on the phone, and you winced back slightly at the sheer intensity of it. This hound had some pipes on her.

“Yes, my precious secretary!” Blitzø was delighted to hear that there was a need for him in the front office. When Loona called for him like that, it typically meant there was business to be done. He practically pranced into the room, his coat fluttering about him in a very unprofessional demeanor when his eyes settled on the most glorious of sights.

_ Lucifer and Charlotte Magne. _ The Royal family, only one missing and he would have had the full set in his  _ own _ building. Well, his own leased building. It was so difficult to save up for a down payment. The true reality of Hell, taxes were astronomical. 

But Lucifer! His eyes were blinking in awe as a wide smile curled over his features. “Lucifer and Charlie! The top bananas! How wonderful to see you in my humble office! What are two such fine demons doing in such a,” He coughed as he said the word, ‘shitty’, “spot in Hell!” His hands were wrung together as he drew closer to the group. 

He had never seen such clear pristine skin on demons before. Maybe it was genetics, maybe it was genocide, hell, maybe it was Maybelline, but they were the most beautiful demons he had ever set eyes on, and they were royalty! 

This could do wonders for his business, if he was able to take a photo of them in here, he’d be set for months. Maybe he wouldn’t even have to take anymore calls from that weird mouthed bastard anymore. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Of course such lowly demons would fawn so obnoxiously over him and his daughter. He felt his patience wearing thin, his gaze hardening on the splotchy imp. “We’re here in this mediocre place, that reeks like old salad by the way, on Charlie’s little friends behalf.” Charlie and you both felt the weight in those words. 

You, however, started to blush, because of course he wouldn’t call you by your name, you were still just a thorn in his side. 

The only reason he was putting up with you was because you were a friend of Charlie. “Rest assured I’d never set foot in a  _ dump _ like this otherwise.” The smarmy grin that spread over his face as he insulted the demon made you cringe. He didn’t have to be so rude, but then again, he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do, so maybe you would just try to keep your intrusive thoughts to yourself.

Not that that would help,  _ apparently he could read minds. _

Blitzø was completely unfazed at hearing such words directed at him. He was well aware that imps laid at the bottom of the totem pole; the lowest in the pecking order. It was rare that anyone took them seriously enough as it was, and, to hear that the top banana himself didn’t hold him with a high regard, needless to say it was hardly news. 

However, Blitzø found himself to be quite disappointed that he wasn’t going to assist the Magne family today.

No, instead he would be helping  _ you _ . The smallest, most unassuming one in the bunch. Of course it was difficult to compete with such shining specimens, but really, you just looked… so boring… and  _ human _ . It was disgusting. 

He would have thought the only reason they brought you here was to execute you, but  _ no.  _ You were the  _ client _ . He could have cried.

He let out an exasperated sigh, his eyes landing on you. You felt taken aback by how hard his disappointment hit you. He didn’t have to be so obvious about it, but you had to remind yourself constantly that polite society was long gone. 

“You, little shaky thing. Come on. Magne family, you are welcome to follow.” Blitzø grabbed your shoulder, yanking you forward, physically separating you from Charlie and her father before shoving you forward into a very run down boardroom. 

_ “Hey!”  _ You gasped out, did everyone have to shove you around down here!?

Blitzø bowed lowly as he ushered the Royal family in after you.

As if you needed a reminder that no one took you seriously. You took a seat with a heavy exhale, holding onto the hope that this meeting would at least be  _ decent _ . Honestly, you didn’t have much faith in this striped horned asshole. He was not very nice, and it was grating on your nerves. 

Charlie took the seat next to you in an effort to comfort you and, while it did manage to ease you just enough, you couldn’t help but feel the beginnings of annoyance at the fact that even the  _ imps _ didn’t take you seriously. You were very aware of how Lucifer took to standing behind both you and Charlie, looming. 

Maybe it would have been better to just hire someone to steal the book  _ for  _ you. You would have never dreamt of doing such a thing before getting down here, but with your desperation, you were ready for  _ anything.  _

You watched silently as Blitzø strolled around to the other side of the desk before resting within the chair. He kicked his feet up onto the desk, his boots crossing at the ankles, successfully blocking your face from his view. 

“How can the Immediate Murder Professionals help you today?” He wasn’t even looking you in the eye. He was still looking at Lucifer and Charlie, it sent a spiral of panic and nerves into your gut, making you squirm in your seat. You opened your mouth only to close it. 

You had come all this way, Lucifer had driven you all so far, and now you just had to spill it out. 

You opened your mouth once more, only to snap it shut when you heard a cane bang into the floor. The stare that was set on the back of your head could have set it on fire, and you were entirely sure Lucifer was more than capable of doing such a thing.

He had driven non-stop for this little excursion. It had taken roughly a day and a half. He had listened to the grating nerves of both his daughter and your own anxious ones, as well as the drunken mess of that feline. Now that you were all here, you were hesitant. How was it such a fickle creature had caught the attention of such a powerful demon?

He wasn’t sure, but he would not let his time be wasted by the likes of you. He leaned down, lining up his mouth to your ear, and with a dangerous grin, he spoke up. 

“We came all this way. Don’t disappoint me now, _ little girl _ .” 

You buried your anxiousness, and attempted not to let your discomfort of his presence show upon your face. The last thing you ever wanted to do was to make the Devil disappointed in  _ you. _

Regardless of your own desires to tuck tail and flee, the ultimate goal of the entirety of your trip was sitting just before you with an expectant, if not rather bored expression. You wanted answers, and answers were what you would get. Clearing your throat, you sat up in a stiffened expression.

“IneedyoutofindouthowIdiedandwhokilledmeandwhy.” 

Instead of it coming out collected and professional, it was rushed to a point of illegible comprehension. You were met with a blank, mildly surprised stare. You blinked owlishly, the heat returning to your cheeks at the sheer embarrassment you felt for yourself. Lucifer leaned back with a snicker. Charlie frowned worriedly but ultimately decided not to reach out and offer you comfort.

This was your spotlight.

“You’re going to have to repeat that again,  _ and a lot slower.”  _ Blitzø leaned forward and hooking his claws together upon the desk in an effort to appear more…  _ professional.  _

“I… need you to find out how I died, who killed me, and why.” 

His disappointment in your words were thinly veiled. 

“We  _ murder  _ people. I remember telling you that.” He recalled his phrase on the phone, speaking to you as if you were a dipshit. Your eye twitched, his snippy attitude mellowing down your nervousness and patience. It was supposed to be a meeting to  _ discuss  _ things, not point out facts that you already knew. You were so tired of being treated like a child; so fed up with individuals telling you what to do, with Alastor plainly manipulating you and  _ never  _ being upfront with anyone.

If you had to put your foot down, you would.

“And I remember telling  _ you  _ that money is not a problem, so you’ll do what I ask of you because we’re paying you.” Your eyes narrowed, releasing the phrase with an annoyed huff. 

Lucifer was pleasantly surprised to say the least, releasing a string of laughter. Oh, you reminded him so much of his wife in that moment; truly, such a vivacious woman. To you, however, you weren’t sure  _ what  _ or  _ who  _ he was laughing at; but you supposed if he was entertained by this shit show, it was a good sign. Charlie found herself a bit relieved that you were entirely capable of holding your own.

Blitzø’s claws drummed across the table, his desire to kick you out right then and there nearly winning him over. He glanced towards the royal family who in turn shared expectant taking-no-shit expressions with him. “Yeah, alright, fine.” He lifted a hand and made a motion with it.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding the entire time. 

_ “MOXXXIE!”  _ The grating yell that left the imp caused Charlie and you to nearly jump out of your skin. Lucifer barely reacted. Such utter unruly behavior, he mused with lidded eyes. You turned to glance at Charlie then who in turn offered you a under-the-radar thumbs up. Your shoulders relaxed slightly. 

A smaller imp opened the door then, going through letters and offering a very worn out, annoyed sigh. “Yes, sir?” Moxxie was irritated at the fact that he had been summoned in such a way; but it had also gotten to a point where he expected no less.  _ Dammit, his bills needed to get paid.  _ There’s no response, and when he lifted his head to repeat the question, his eyes immediately connected with Lucifer’s. 

His papers fell to the floor in a dramatic heap. 

“Y-you’re--” he stuttered pathetically, pointing a finger at Lucifer who eyed him idly and silently. The small imp gasped, darting out of the room. His wife needed to see this! “Millie! You won’t believe who’s in the office right now!” The voice is muffled from the door being shut in his exhilaration, excited chatter being thrown back and forth before the door was thrown open again.

The imp starts nervously collecting the fallen papers and bills again, stuffing them haphazardly in his arms. A curious feminine imp leaned over his shoulder, batting her eyelashes in surprise. You could only watch on in amusement and surprise at how they fawned over the two Magne’s. 

“H-how did you find out about us?” Moxxie began, wonder written over his face. He’d never seen the Royal family in person before, this was an honor!

“Why are you here?” Millie spoke up.

“Do you need someone killed?” They both said it together before beaming at each other. Cute.

“ _ Wow, Blitzø, the ad actually worked!”  _ Moxxie turned back around excitedly. Blitzø took pride, puffing out his chest.

“Why  _ yes,  _ Moxxie, it  _ did _ work!” 

The smaller imp, now affectionately known as Moxxie, twisted his face up at the sudden change of his boss’ pride. He shook his head, before turning his attention back towards Lucifer, drowning in curious and excited chatter and questions that would never go answered. Said head banana began to grow weary with the constant flattering comments; and that was saying something, considering Lucifer was never one to  _ not  _ take a compliment. 

“Blitzo,” the devil pronounced the O just to aggravate the situation, “Is this really how you conduct your employees?”

The room stiffened, the air,  _ everything  _ becoming so utterly tense in that moment. Moxxie and Millie fell silent almost immediately. Lucifer was tired, and surprisingly hangry; nevertheless alive and well. Charlie and Lilith had been the only ones that have ever seen the fallen angel annoyed; and you took the initiative to appease the situation, requesting for something to snack on.

You were silent the rest of the time, leaning back into your chair. The rest of the room was not so flippant.

“Of course not, miss!  _ Moxxie!  _ Order lunch, put it on Loona’s business charge!”

“S-sir, she’s already maxxed it out on ordering magazines!” Moxxie stuttered out.

“Then put it on Millie’s!” Blitzø hissed out. 

“But, we--” They didn’t even  _ have _ a company charge. 

“How do you feel about Mexican?” Blitzo turned back to Lucifer then, ignoring the reason they were there to begin with. The imp tried to salvage any chance of a relationship with the head honcho. He wanted to make a good impression on Lucifer, damn it.

“That depends.” Lucifer drummed his fingers on the handle of his cane, eyes lidded in boredom. 

“On…?”

“If they have empanada’s.” He sneered. Lucifer had a sweet tooth, not to mention a weakness for apples.

“Only the best for such an impressive denizen of Hell.” He was smiling like a cat that got the canary, and then was able to dip it into the cream. He had just locked in a lunch with the royal family, and got to pass it off as a business expense.

The real part of hell, was the taxes of course.

You were beginning to grow annoyed.  _ They weren’t taking you seriously.  _

There was idle talk until the food had arrived, and once it did, the lunch went as smoothly as was expected. Charlie, after making sure you understood that she would not leave here without the promise of getting you answers, had begun to converse with the residents of the building. The princess was happy to meet with the other denizens of Hell that were under her family’s charge; and in conversing with them, she had told them of her passion project. 

Lucifer had gotten the empanada and stole it from underneath your fingers, hoarding it for himself, which had finally mellowed out his annoyance and hangry attitude. He had driven all the way here, for his daughter, who had done this for you. He was taking your pie. You had  _ tricked  _ him into doing a good deed. The least you could do was give him your dessert.

He did, however, have fun with messing with you and Husk, though.

Thankfully, however, once you finished your meal, Blitzø piped up and began to actually converse with you regarding your desires, inquiring about what you could remember, in which Moxxie jotted it down on a board behind his desk. The most you were able to narrow down to how you died were the memories you had recovered, and the week you were sure you had died. 

The board was covered in question marks. 

But it was more than nothing. 

Charlie remained close to you the entire time, ensuring that you were aware that she was there to support you no matter what. In her mind, you were the key to finding success in the hotel; you may have been the only one that could be redeemed, the only hope she had at letting her father  _ and  _ the council know that she was  _ not  _ a failure. She would prove them wrong; she had to.

If you could have read her thoughts, you would have told her that you weren’t sure if you even  _ wanted  _ to be redeemed. Heaven, after learning what you did, seemed more hellish than even  _ here. _

And if anything, you had  _ friends _ down here, even if some refused to call it that.

All in all, this meeting could have gone so much worse than it had.

“Alright, well after having so much to go off of,” Blitzø rolled his eyes, but, luckily they would all be monetarily compensated for this stupid job. “We should be able to find out some shit about how you died. Happy now?” His stupid smile was really starting to piss you off. 

“Yes, thank you. You’ve been  _ so helpful _ .” You replied, feeling just as tired as you were sure he was. 

The striped imp narrowed his eyes at you. “We’ll be taking your preferred method of payment now.” His hand was itching to have that shiny credit card in his hand. Oh, he was going to charge the Magne family out of the wazoo for this, after all, you hadn’t asked for the going rate.

Charlie stepped forward, fully prepared for this turn of events. She leaned forward on the desk, and for the first time during the meeting, Blitzø saw a flash of Charlie’s true eyes, the whites of her eyes turning red, and her pupils flashing into slits. He gulped, remembering that this was the Royal family, and that they were all eternally powerful.

“About that, we never discussed the going rate for this type of business exchange.” She held her head in her hand while she drummed her fingers on the table in a move that was very reminiscent of her father. You would have to remember not to piss her off, because while you knew she was a pretty happy person, right now she was giving off the same air her father did. Intimidation and blind power. 

It was a bit scary, as well as thrilling to feel this type of change coming from her. She was a very protective friend. 

The boss imp coughed. “Right, well, normally for our usual services, our portal rate is one- thousand flat for activation. The murder part normally costs about three-thousand, unless, of course, it’s a child. In which case, it’s free.” You had to blink at that tidbit of information. You had thought it might have been a joke during the jingle that you had imagined due to the pain in your abdomen, but alas. 

That was not a joke, these imps killed children,  _ for free _ .

“But, considering your… request, we might have to activate the portal several times, and we’ll have to cross into the human realm more than once in order to find out all this shit about your, um. You know.... What’s your name again?” The way Blitzø had forgotten your name, after all the times Charlie had mentioned it made you want to scream. 

You pointed to the board behind him, where Moxxie had scrawled your name across the top of the board in bold, hard to miss print. He rose a brow and turned over his shoulder. “Whatever. For starters, we’ll say we’re going to open the portal three times and venture into the mortal world, at great cost to our lives. You know, humans are absolute assholes. So, we’ll start out at ten-thousand.” Charlie thought about what she had in her savings. This was pocket change for her family. 

You felt the blood drain from your face.  _ How would you ever repay her? _

“You know what, here,” She pulled out her debit card. This way it was all on her, and not her family. “And go ahead and add two-thousand, I want you to make sure you do the best job possible or else I’ll just have to make sure that everyone under the pentagram knows just how useless this place is. Unless, of course, you do your job well, then, I might just endorse this little business venture for you.” 

You were pale. Yes,  _ definitely _ do not get on Charlie’s bad side. Noted.

Blitzø was grinning ear to ear. With an endorsement from the Royal family, they wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again! They could murder all the bastards roaming Earth for the little shits down here. This might have been the best job that had ever fallen into his lap. 

“Sounds great. Here’s Loona’s number.” He slid a little black card over the table, in which you grabbed it. On it had Loona’s number and name, and other possible ways to contact her in case she didn’t have her phone on her. Or just didn’t answer. “We’ll keep you updated on your case through her and let you know if we need more funds on this little adventure.” 

He spread his hands out before him, eyes sparkling as a flutter of demonic magic created a rainbow between his hands as he said the word, ‘adventure.’ Just because he was an insufferable asshole. You were sure Moxxie would be able to back you up on that. 

They would be set for years if this went well.

“We’ll be in touch,” Charlie smiled, standing to her full height before leaning over the table. “And remember,  _ don’t fuck this up. _ ” She was not going to play around with your past. You were a good person, she just knew it. 

Blitzø nodded, rising to his feet, intent on showing you all to the door. This time, he didn’t shove you out of the door, considering Charlie was directly behind you at that point. Loona didn’t give you or your party a glance upon leaving, listening to too-loud music with cheap headphones. The smell of the old salad had been something you had gotten used to; and upon escaping the building in silence, the smell that greeted you of your normal hell made your nose crinkle. 

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer sang out, and you peered over at him as he made his way back towards the car. You looked over at Charlie then.

“I really appreciate this, Charlie.” You clung to the business card in your hand as if it were your lifeline. Without it, you would never get your answers. Without Charlie, none of this would have come to be.

“Don’t thank me, you deserve it.” She lowered her voice, slowing her pace to let you keep up with her. “You’ve been through so much already. I couldn’t imagine not knowing where I came from.” She didn’t understand the stress of not knowing, and she couldn’t exactly help you with the Alastor problem because, while you were her friend, Alastor was also a big part of helping her with her dream. But she could be there as a shoulder you could cry on. Charlie wasn’t perfect.

If she were, she would have been in Heaven.

You nodded rather than verbally responding, trying to hold back a yawn. Charlie noticed.

“Hey dad, how about we stay at a hotel for the night so we can all rest up?”

Lucifer had already made it to his side of the car; Husk was still passed out in the back which surprised you. You had been in there for a few hours at least. The grin that curled over his face should have let you know what was coming. “Charlie, didn’t you know?”

Charlie looked up from behind the door she opened. “What?”

“We’re already headed to a little place called the Hazbin. I heard about it on the news, seems a little odd, but I thought you’d like to check it out.” 

Charlie’s face fell, and you didn’t hold back your sigh. “Dad, you’re not funny.”

“And you’re not the most adorable demon I’ve ever seen, tell me another lie.” He fluttered his eyes at you and his daughter. You could have been another child of his, but you were just so nice. Well, so was his actual spawn. Perhaps Charlie just needed demon therapy for  _ behavioral  _ correction. The thought made him upset for some reason. It wasn’t like he actually enjoyed the company of kind demons, that was just ridiculous. “Get in the car, kids.” He would ruminate over this for another day, perhaps speak to his wife about these confusing emotions. 

He would stop at a hotel at the halfway mark. He was also feeling a bit rundown, even a fallen archangel like him needed rest. You and Charlie were tired from the last few days exertions and excursions; the demon princess didn’t even want to imagine what she would return to when she got back to her hotel. She hoped Vaggie had stepped on their tails and made them clean up their mess.

You also didn’t want to think about was waiting for you back  _ home.  _ Who knew how aggressively Alastor would greet you, whether or not he would just give up or eat you at this point. Perhaps if you were lucky, your words would have scared him off for good.

The demon that greeted you inside the hotel was wary at the sight of, not Lucifer, but  _ Charlie.  _ Oh yes, he had seen her advertisement. She was competition. Nevertheless, the money that was given was from Lucifer, and the clerk would be fired if his boss caught wind that he gave the devil the worst room. Instead, they were three of the  _ nicest  _ rooms; one for Lucifer himself, one for Husk, and one for you and Charlie.

Husk abused the mini bar that was in his room. It was filled with the expensive kind of booze and if the Devil was paying, well, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when that horse was a bottle of booze. 

Upon getting changed for the night, Charlie and you faced each other on opposite beds.

“You’ve been going through a lot, even though you haven’t really been here that long.” Charlie started softly.

You shrugged with a soft sigh. “It doesn’t really seem like my time alive was any less complicated, I’m going to assume it’s normal.” Your humor hadn’t died with you, so that was a good sign at least.

“Humor is a great way to cope, you know.” She stated the fact, and you repositioned yourself into a more comfortable position. “...But really, how are you?”

You looked back up to her, sorting through your thoughts. “...I don’t want to go back, Charlie.” Despite the hotel feeling like home to you, it also felt like a  _ prison. _ “Alastor is treating me like I’m some game, and he can’t even understand the way he feels! How am I supposed to handle that?”

Charlie hummed, eyebrows knitted together in concern as you vented on how it wasn’t fair.

“I know you think you’re probably not doing a good job dealing with it, but you’re doing great. I don’t really handle pressure like that too often.” She admitted with a half-smile. 

“But your dad seems…” You weren’t sure what you were saying, but luckily, Charlie did.

“Dad is Dad, but I know he cares.” Her father was a conundrum few had the patience to solve, but she had seen him be more than kind to her mother. And though there were times she forgot, he was a good father to her as well. He did just drive them all across Hell, just so she could help her friend get some answers. 

“But do you  _ feel _ it?” You blinked up at her. There was a big difference between knowing that someone cared about you, and actually feeling it. 

Charlie hesitated. “Sometimes. It’s not easy raising a kid in the bowels of Hell, y’know?”

Your silence was an invitation for more; you didn’t know much about Charlie at all but she knew plenty about you. And the woman was a wonderful bean; and your  _ friend.  _ You wanted to know more.

“Dad and Mom made sure that I had the best classes available, but ended up teaching me most of the time… Even though they had busy schedules.” She started slowly, unsure of how to piece her past together, much like your own dilemma. It was hard to get it out in words. She understood it herself, but explaining it to another person? 

“I know my parents love me, but I also know my Dad sees me as a failure, because… I’m too nice, and I care too much.” Charlie took a breath, “But I think everyone kind of forgets that Dad wasn’t always what he is… I mean, I am half angel. I guess I’m just meant to battle with my own nature forever. But even if I can save just one soul…  _ just one _ . All of this will be worth it.”

You were quiet for a moment. You had forgotten that Lucifer had been an angel at one point; you supposed it made sense with how porcelain and lovely both Charlie and Lucifer’s appearances were. Dare you say it, they were almost angelic. “I think you can do it, I mean, I think Vaggie is doing a really good job. She let me know she’d help me with… with my problem. Maybe Vaggie will be the first to be rehabilitated.”

“Vaggie was actually the reason I started the Hotel…”

“What?”

“I met her, and she was so lost, but still so sweet. I know she’s a little rough around the edges, but… I wanted better for her.” Charlie explained bashfully, face warming at the thought of her lover.

“That’s adorable.” You couldn’t help but offer a small smile; “You must really love her to do all of this.”

Her face then turned to the same color as her pepperoni cheeks. “Of course I do.”

There was a comfortable silence on Charlie’s thoughts, uncomfortable on yours as you backpedaled. “So…” you trail off after a moment, unsure of how to bring up the conversation.

Charlie nodded, urging you to go on.

“Do you think that… Alastor even  _ has _ the capacity or ability to love?”  _ Someone other than himself,  _ you thought bitterly. The thought made you feel nauseated, but you questioned it because you were  _ curious.  _ Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. 

The fact that Alastor had a crush of you still blew your mind. 

Charlie was quiet for a long moment. The couple they met today at I.M.P. crossed her mind, as did an image of her parents. “A lot of people think that my Dad just tricked my Mom, but that’s not true.” She reminisced at the memories. “He loved her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to survive eternity without her. So he spent all his energy on wooing her.” You weren’t sure what this had to do with anything.

“If my Dad can find love… If even he  _ can _ love, I think Alastor can too.”

Oh.

You were silent, ruminating on this along with her before she continued

“Though I think if you do want this, you will have to teach him how to show it.” Charlie hesitated in offering you the advice.

Good thing you didn’t. You pulled your lips into a strained smile, suddenly uncomfortable the topic. That was enough for tonight. “Goodnight, Charlie.” 

“...Goodnight.” She hesitated for a moment, as if wondering what she said was perhaps the  _ wrong  _ thing. She watched as you turned around and cuddled into the blankets, the softest of sighs escaping her. You had it rough. Perhaps she would try apologizing for what she said tomorrow.

She reached over to the light and pulled the chain, dousing the room in darkness.


	28. The Morning After (but not in that way)

To say you rarely had a full night's rest was an understatement.

Charlie had allowed you to sleep in as long as possible, until she was forced to get you up by a soft shake to your shoulders. Rivulets of drool had stained the pillows, your grasp tight against the fluffiness of them as you muttered sleepily, bringing your hand up and waving her away. Your hair was silhouetted around your head in a crazy manner; and she blinked down at you for a moment, hesitating her hand before bringing it back down and nudging you with more force. 

This time, she spoke to you, successfully dislodging you from your state of welcoming sleep. 

The bed was so incredibly comfortable that, if you could have, you would have slept for an eternity and then some. But alas, the odds were stacked against you. 

Taming your hair, getting changed, and then meeting your other two travel buddies down in the lobby— it was strange resting in another hotel, considering the fact that you had made your home in one. Bringing a fist to your mouth, you released a loud, uncaring yawn. 

_ Early bird gets the worm _ your ass, you were going to  _ step  _ on the worm if you got the chance. Sleep was of high importance to you and, needless to say, when disturbed, you were grumpy. Husk, somehow, looked even grumpier than you, slumped in his stride as Lucifer merrily strolled towards the car.  _ Hungover,  _ you theorized. 

Then again, it wasn’t a hard thing to guess, considering how heavy of an avid drinker he was. You felt guilty, somewhat, to see him in such a way; the liquor must have hit hard. 

You were always surprised to discover just how many different kinds of alcohol’s there were. Even with how long he had been down here, the other demons were constantly churning up new recipes to get other companies out of business. 

Husk just had the pleasure, or perhaps  _ dissatisfaction _ , to taste test them the previous night. He was entirely too certain that it had been laced with something. That, or he was finally succumbing to alcohol poisoning.  _ About damn time.  _

It was even  _ worse  _ now that he had begun to sober up. 

It was a bad hangover. 

The car ride was as quiet as expected when accompanied by a literal disney princess, the Devil, and a hung over drunk. Said devil had insisted on playing polka even at nine in the morning, much to everyone’s demise.

He finally gave in and lowered it by  _ one percent _ when the complaining got loud enough. 

Husk began to pray for death,  _ again _ . If he had an empty bottle, he would have smashed it over Lucifer’s head, no doubt that even the death that would follow would be bittersweet. 

Jet lag was the easiest way to describe the way everyone felt; though, Lucifer still either was non affected or simply didn’t show such.

It was easy enough to drown out your worries the further away you were from the Hotel, but the closer the silhouette of the clock tower became, the more the anxiety began to make its presence known. Anxious for it meant you were not only getting closer to  _ home _ and you wished nothing more than to lay in your bed for the rest of this hell you had to endure, but it also meant you were looming closer to  _ the one who should not be named. _

Not knowing what would go down when you got back was much worse than had you known what was waiting for you. There was simply no plausible way to prepare yourself; nevertheless, Charlie and you set yourselves expectations to be at an all time low for different reasons. Charlie had left the hotel when the lobby was practically in shambles; you had left it when you had frightened away the Radio Demon with the revelation of a lifetime.

Yet, even that event felt like it had happened ages ago than the reality of it simply occurring yesterday. 

By the time the trio stepped out of the car, Husk muttering under his breath about how he would never get in one ever again, Charlie stretching her legs, you turned around and bent down to peer into the vehicle. 

“Thank you, Lucifer.” You said after a moment; truly, it wasn’t a phrase you had ever thought would leave your lips but here you were, thanking the  _ Devil.  _ You were all too aware that he didn’t have to do  _ any  _ of that and it probably would have been a lot more enthusing to revel in your struggle to get to the place on time than willingly drive you. 

He tipped his hat towards you, the worm slipping into the seat you had abandoned. 

“Thanks for the entertainment.” 

You were painfully reminded of the demon who was enamored by you but also by the  _ entertainment  _ you laid on the table. Lucifer was all too aware of exactly who he sounded like in that moment, and his grin twisted up haughtily.

You pulled your expression into a feigned, tight smile, even as the top banana’s eyelids lowered teasingly at your reaction. As much as you wanted to take it slow towards the hotel, you booked it. You had already spent more time than was necessary with the Devil. 

And you know what they say:  _ better the Devil you already know.  _

To your absolute relief, by the time you swing open the entrance door, the sight that greets you is not said asswipe. The lobby was as neat as you had last seen it; you were thankful to see it was not torn to shreds. The scent of  _ home  _ greets you, and despite this place causing you a lot more chaos that you had  _ never  _ signed up for, you couldn’t help but have a large smile dance across your face. 

You had not missed one specific resident, but you  _ had  _ missed your other friends. It also didn’t smell like old avocado salad, which was a bonus in your book. 

Charlie entered the double doors after bidding farewell to her father; and you glanced over to her after a moment. She didn’t even try to hide her utter relief to not see innumerable, irreparable damages across the lobby. Husk was the last to enter with a heavy, gruff sigh. 

“They had some good fuckin’ alcohol, but nothing beats  _ mine.”  _ He strolled over to his bar without a glance to the other residents who had been alerted by the sound of the closing doors. Vaggie had come out of the kitchen, a genuine smile appearing on her face at the sight of you and her girlfriend returned safely.

Mostly her girlfriend. 

Angel Dust immediately snapped his head in your direction, upside down, as he had been lazily lounging on the couch. Fat Nuggets sheepishly peered from atop his stomach, immediately perking up at the sight of you. The pig jumped down, making a mad dash for you in a fever of wiggling and happy squealing. Angel, of course, rolled off of the couch in the most dramatic fashion, accompanied by a groan. 

Upon seeing Husk, he flirtatiously waved his fingers, in which the feline simply muttered to himself.

You leaned down, picking up the pig with a rare, happy grin; letting it sniffle and snuffle your face in greeting. You felt your heart soar; all previous negative thoughts of making it into bacon were long gone; speaking to it in a baby voice as it wiggles in your arms with enthusiasm. Angel Dust had begun to smooth out his outfit haphazardly as Vaggie and Charlie hugged; Charlie kissing Vaggie’s cheeks adoringly. 

They were definitely a cute couple. 

“See yer finally back.” The arachnid cleared his throat, sauntering over to inspect you. “Anyway, this bitch,” he jabbed four thumbs at an already annoyed Vaggie, “doesn’t understand rehab is a ‘ween off kinda thing’. Found my stash.”

He wiped away a fake tear, “Threw plates and shit at me.” He tattled to Charlie and you. In a way that he would probably never admit to, he was glad his harassment buddy was back— as in, you and him could harass Husk again. 

“You started it.” Vaggie turned to Angel, already willing to throw down right then and there. 

Angel gasped, feigning offense. “I ain’t done  _ nothin’  _ wrong. _ ” _

Charlie attempted to ease Vaggie down by placing a hand on her shoulders. You blinked owlishly at the three of them before quietly turning your attention back to the pig. “Angel, I’m stealing your pig.” You stated finally, trying your hand at playfulness. You brought a hand to caress the happily oinking pink fat thing in your arms. 

The arachnid crossed his first set of arms then, the other leaning on his hip sassily. He didn’t respond verbally, watching to make sure that you didn’t hurt his beloved little piggy. He knew that you wouldn’t dare, hell, you didn’t have the  _ guts  _ to, and not to mention you also seemed entirely too captivated and charmed by his pet. 

“Oh! You’re back!” The squeaky, high pitched voice of Niffty caused your attention to fall to the tiny, energetic cyclops. “How was it, wherever you went? Did you bring anything back? Are you ready to get back to cleaning? You’re really slow but that’s okay!” She bounced around you, genuinely excited for her cleaning buddy to have returned safe and sound. Cleaning had always been easy for Niffty, but it had been a bit…  _ drab _ without you. 

It had been a really long time since she last had friends. 

Amongst the greeting, Vaggie had pulled Charlie aside after hearing about what exactly had gone down. The moth demon had always known her girlfriend had a particular fondness with you, seeing you as a little sister of some sort, but now that she had spent an incredible amount of  _ money  _ on you, Vaggie had to step in. It was without a doubt that Magne family was well in regards to money, it wasn’t a problem that the  _ money  _ was spent on you, no, but Vaggie was worried in regards to how much Charlie was babying you, even when you didn’t ask for it. 

“Hun, you have to let her deal with this on her own. She has to learn to fend for herself down here, just like how everyone else learned.” Vaggie places her hands on Charlie’s shoulders, the corners of her eyes softening. She glanced at you again, a sigh fluttering her hair for a moment as she tried to piece together her thoughts. 

“I know. But she’s gone through so much—“ Charlie cast a gentle gaze to you, watching as you interacted with the other residents. She wanted better for all the demons under her charge, but she also knew that she  _ had  _ taken you under her wing. For you to grow and prosper, she had to let you do that on your own. 

Just because she was aware of it, didn’t mean she liked it. You were too much of a good soul to have deserved any of this. She didn’t want to have you tarnished. 

“Just like the rest of us…” Vaggie eased. “Charlie, she is more than capable of protecting herself.” She dragged her finger under the porcelain woman’s chin affectionately, causing her to look at her, “She just has it a bit… harder, with Alastor as a thorn in her side.”

Said demon was well aware that the object of his most recent  _ fascination  _ had arrived. His room just so happened to be several floors above the others, requiring such for much needed privacy; despite his rarely respecting others— particularly  _ yours.  _ He sat elegantly, poised in a high backed chair within the confines of it, fingers knotted together as his chin rested upon them. 

In the shroud of darkness, the only light that illuminated the room unnaturally originated directly from his rather vacant stare. He hadn’t blinked in hours, he was so lost in his own thoughts.

His legs were delicately crossed at his knees; a record skipping in the background of a jazzy tune that was ever infinite. It sounded far more horrific and unsettling than melodic;  _ just like the depths of his mind.  _ Certain sounds from the lobby of the hotel were far too easy to hone in on; but none the more concerning than the sound of your laughter. 

It could have been confused with a scream had he not been listening so intently to it. 

The mist rising from the swamp terrain of his room clung to the floor, wrapping around the chair and himself like the serpents of old. The only visible movement that left him that betrayed the thought of him being a shell of a man, were the twitching of his ears. The intensity in which he listened was  _ riveting _ to a point. 

You were a figment of interest to his confused, erratic, enticed mind; entirely too disappointed with the fact that you had not only spent your time chasing after something that did not deserve your attention, but alongside individuals who had intentions that _he _did not want _you _to partake in. Not worth your time, and yet you had gone to them, rather than _him. _

As if there wasn’t a plausible reason why you wouldn’t do such a thing. 

A blur of a movement that would have been easy to pass up as a mirage, a twitch of his fingers; a tap upon his own flesh as his shadow retreated from his form; escaping from the crack under the door with the determination to keep him updated on  _ everything you did.  _

It had taken residence in your own shadow, contorting it in a way that was both unnatural and foreign, a fleeting sight as you continued on with the events of your day. 

While it had been easy to forget about Alastor on your road trip (the majority of the time), and despite you attempting to brush off the feeling of paranoia because you had yet to  _ see  _ him, you couldn’t help but go about your day with the apprehension and uneasiness as if he were there all along.

But he wasn’t. 

You released a heavy breath; rattled from both jet lag and the building nervousness of the possibility that he was up to no good. You were relieved that, when turning on the television, there was nothing regarding a mass extermination of demons. You were just being paranoid. You needed to kick back and  _ relax.  _

The rest of the afternoon consisted of getting up to speed with Angel, despite his lack of attention regarding you. That, or it was blatant discomfort with you getting close to him. He did seem to enjoy bringing you along to mess around with Huskie though, and for the first time in… well, the  _ first time,  _ Husk was sober. 

Angel took advantage of it. Husk immediately started drinking.

Well, it was the thought that counted, you guessed. What better way to get over a hangover than to drown yourself in even more liquor? You had begun to wonder if he did it just to have something to do. Sure, there was stuff that happened in the hotel, but you couldn’t imagine how utterly boring it was to just… sit behind a counter all day. 

Though Husk would never admit it, he did enjoy your company. 

The rest of the evening went smoothly enough; but Alastor still didn’t show face. “Angel.” You called out, strolling up to the arachnid who was sucking on a popsicle. 

“Ha?” A ‘pop’ resounded loudly, a string of saliva connected him to it still.  _ Was he practicing on the popsicle?  _ Your nose scrunched up before you shook your head, clearing your throat.

“Have you seen...” You brought a finger to each side of your cheeks, pulling them into a large grin. Honestly, you were surprised at yourself for inquiring about it. You didn’t care more so than you were worried you would be the cause of a global genocide; but you couldn’t control other people’s actions, you supposed.

Angel blinked at you for a moment, waving the wrist holding the popsicle around as if actually thinking. “Smiles? Nah. He’s been holdin’ out in his room.” 

Oh, the room that even  _ Niffty  _ refused to clean. 

You nodded absent-mindedly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Despite everything, the knowledge that he was  _ in  _ the hotel didn’t exactly sit right with you. You would have had an easier time accepting the fact that he went out on a murder spree than that there was a chance of running into him.

You weren’t sure how you would react if you did. 

By the time you headed to your room for the evening, you stared at the mahogany door for a moment longer than necessary. It had been so easy to detach from the fact that this was your room, that you had a  _ place  _ here, that this was your  _ home.  _ The creaking of the settling foundations of the hotel brought you out of your reverie, and with a sigh, you twisted the knob and let yourself in.

Immediately, you went through your drawers, looking around the room in suspicion. You didn’t put it past Alastor to go through your stuff when you were gone. But he hadn’t-- if he had, he did a spotless job at covering his tracks.

Everything was exactly how you left it.

The pit in your stomach, the weight of a gaze on your shoulders; hair standing upon the back of your neck. The feeling of eyes on you despite being completely and utterly alone was something you couldn’t shake. You ran a hand through your hair from the top of your head, muttering under your breath about how you were just being paranoid. That was it. All you were being was paranoid.

Grabbing a pair of fresh clothes, you headed to the shower, stripped, and stepped in. The warmth that greeted you was welcoming, and for a moment you forgot the uncomfortable feeling that resided physically within your own shadow. Needless to say, the shower was quick, but did manage to relax you slightly. But that was enough for you to hop back into your  _ own  _ bed, flick off the light, and fall asleep.

You dreamt of eyes. Thousands of them. They filled your room completely, every single corner had such familiar eyes, and all of them were focused on you. Red, unblinking, never letting up,  _ staring. _ It was as if they drew closer to your form, bringing the void they resided in closer as they neared you. _ _

You shot up; the red light of  _ morning  _ streaming through the windows. Despite it only feeling as if you had slept for a mere blip of time, the clock stated otherwise. A full eight hours of sleep. You fell back into the pillows with a grunt, hoping to remain there for the rest of this hell you had left to endure. 

The start to your day consisted of you sweeping; your determination to try to pay Charlie back even though she insisted it was alright and you didn’t  _ have to,  _ caused you to sweep with a bit more vigor. You had responsibilities, unlike the  _ manager  _ who shirked his own to wallow in his own thoughts. Whatever. It wasn’t your pay grade. Charlie had spent literal thousands on you; you couldn’t just…  _ accept it.  _

Well, you could, but you wouldn’t. 

Whenever you went back to push the dirt into the dirt pile, either the pile would be messed up, or moved just enough to get your attention. It got to a point where you  _ knew  _ you weren’t cracking up because you set up a plan. Turn around for a bit, hone in on your senses, and right when you were about to sweep up a few glass shards Niffty had missed, you spun around.

There, long, black, misty tendrils messed up your dirt pile.

_ “A-HA!”  _ You had caught the culprit red handed. Only when you recognized what exactly they were from, or  _ who _ , did you throw the broom at the tendrils, which in turn dissipated at impact before reforming. The broom snapped upon hitting the ground once again, and you cursed lowly. 

Your anger began dull, harbored by shock at first, before it  _ really  _ began to settle in. 

_ He had set them to follow you.  _

You  _ hadn’t  _ been paranoid. You knew exactly what was happening. You whipped around, your shadow moving so quick that it deterred his own, causing you to catch the tail end of the antlers.

_ He had been watching you the entire time.  _

Kitchen, bathroom, the shower, your  _ bed.  _ It was  _ him.  _

“Hey, can you go to the grocery store and get a few things--” Charlie’s voice cut off with a small ‘oh’, and you spun around to meet her eyes. Your anger was silenced, before you sighed.  _ At least you were aware now.  _ You narrowed your eyes at your shadow, and Charlie wondered briefly if you had finally lost it. 

“Riiight, well,” she held out the note to you and you took it out of her hand lightly. It wasn’t a lot. “Be safe, okay?” She reached over and  _ almost  _ patted your shoulder before hesitating. She couldn’t baby you. Instead, she returned her hand to her side, and you looked up at her with knitted brows. 

“I’ll try.” Grabbing a coat, you headed out, still borderline about to snap at the tendrils that now tried to curl around your legs and keep you close to the hotel. The shadow contorted around you; acting as if it hadn’t been spotted  _ just yet.  _

Until you had gathered what you needed at the store and a demon tried to talk to you. Within the grocery checkout line, the shadow made it’s presence known with a gaping maw, scaring away a possible guest to the hotel. The sheep demon that had beautiful, white flowing hair had only wanted to know more about it; it had even been a little  _ sheepish _ in her question. Now.  _ Now you were pissed.  _ Did you not get through to him? This had to stop! 

Upon reentering the doors, you threw down the groceries.

“The shit is up with ya?” Angel piped up, thoroughly surprised. Husk slow blinked in shock at you; you were rarely angry, and when you flipped out like this, he was entirely certain that radio prick was the cause of it. Leaving the groceries at the front door, you didn’t offer any sort of response, storming up the stairs as the tendrils and the shadow chased after you; despite the anger that radiated off of you in waves.

Just when you had gotten back.

He couldn’t have given you a  _ break?  _

_ He completely disrespected your privacy! _

When you reached where he pent himself up, the mist of the swamp forming from underneath the crack in it, you brought your fist up and banged on the door. The sheer intensity hurt your fist, face contorted angrily.

“ _ ALASTOR! HEY  _ ** _ASSWIPE_ ** _ , OPEN UP!”  _

You were beyond pissed. The shadow tentacles were wrapped around your ankle, and you kicked the door in an attempt to dislodge it from you. It didn’t feel like anything because it had the consistency of a shadow, but that didn’t leave you any less pissed at the fact that it was  _ touching you. _

When he opened up the door with an eerie calmness, you had almost forgotten how  _ tall  _ he was. His frame alone filled up the doorway, his ever present smile leering down at you.  _ God, he was a creepy bastard.  _ His calm demeanor pissed you off even more. Nevertheless, you swallowed, the beginnings of anxiety over how utterly intimidating he was in that moment. This was the man who literally had it out for ruining whatever happiness or contentment you could find down here.

Your face contorted, anger reigniting.

“Can I help you, my  _ darling little employee?”  _ He cooed; bambi eyelashes fluttering down at you. He could not let your presence unhinge his reverie, for he had finally come to terms with what it was that he was feeling. What it was that he wanted,  _ because it was standing right in front of him.  _

You mutter angrily under your breath, seething quietly but visibly. You point down to your ankle then; about to lose your damn mind at the  _ thing  _ when you were met with the sight of, drum roll please,  _ nothing _ . You stared down at your ankle, eye twitching. Your fingertips twitched at your sides. 

Alastor had pulled his shadow back into his own bodily orbit in the time it had taken you to realize; his head tilted to the side at your absolutely  _ adorable  _ furious expression. “If that’s all then.” He hummed, leaning down to bring his face closer to yours. “Unless you need something else~” he sang, eyes crinkled in some form of twisted amusement.

You had a realization that he wasn’t smiling at you more than he was  _ baring  _ his teeth at you. 

Oh, you didn’t miss him at  _ all.  _ You wanted to wipe that smile off of his face. “Keep your voodoo magic to  _ yourself,”  _ you hissed out, your anger causing you to spout out words you didn’t exactly mean. “Or else I’ll tell everyone that I made you frown  _ twice.” _ You held up two fingers. If he wanted a game, you would play your own. 

He ‘hmm’ed obnoxiously at you, his lips closing over his teeth, smile still dramatically present. He straightened out then. “Very well then.” He stepped back, and you hadn’t realized that he had agreed to keep his stupid powers to himself because, when he began to close the door, he grinned again.

“Welcome back,” he stated your name, closing the door with an audible  _ click.  _

You felt your heart stop, expression going slack.

_ He said your name. _


	29. When To File For A Restraining Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come join our 18+ discord here!: https://discord.gg/MMWVBk
> 
> Happy New Years Eve!

_ He had said your name. _

Upon reentering the lobby, you had discovered that the groceries had been put away  _ for  _ you by some resident of the hotel that you had chosen not to inquire about. 

There were only a select few, but those who were, were your friends. Though they did not wish to publicly admit such a fact, nothing was more blatant than that in such a tense moment. They could have also been  _ told  _ to do it, of course, but you would give them the benefit of the doubt. 

_ They,  _ being Angel Dust and Husk. 

You released a heavy sigh at the realization that you were safe here in their presence, even as you settled down upon a stool at the bar. 

The winged feline busied himself with cleaning a shot glass before pouring some liquor into it. You had some shit going on; and what better to wallow in your thoughts than by being drunk? He passed you the drink, and you stirred it absentmindedly, not bothering to actually bring it to your lips to ingest the contents. 

_ Well, to each their own. _

Husk knew when to talk and when not to talk, and, based on your expression, he knew that the latter was perhaps the best option. It wasn’t like he was the best with his words to begin with. 

You couldn’t get the fact out of your mind that  _ he _ had said your name. It was probably a weird thing to get stuck on, but up until this point, he had only ever referred to you as an  _ employee.  _ It was so mind blowing to you that, when you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, you jumped.

“Ya… ah, okay toots?” The familiar voice of Angel Dust eased your nerves, but your reaction caused the hand to retract. 

“Um, yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You lied straight out of your teeth, and in a rare moment of vulnerability and understanding, Husk and Angel passed a thinly veiled look of concern towards you. Angel rolled his eyes before leaning against the counter with a huff. His lips pulled up to reveal a sneer in an action that was less  _ mean,  _ and more of a jest. 

“No yer not.” 

You glanced up at him then, pausing in your movements of swirling the drink. You blinked. Once, twice, before letting your shoulders slump. “No I’m not.” You agreed half-heartedly, and Angel nodded alongside you as if you were a dipshit. Husk took a swig of his drink on your behalf, knowing perhaps a bit too well that the radio bastard had done something. 

It was apparent. 

“So, ya gonna spill or…?” Angel trailed off, turning his attention to the screen of the television that added ambience to the room. Crack, snap, and pop spoke of the latest territorial takeover that just so happened to be close to the hotel. You would have found interest in finding out what exactly had caused the most recent of your traumatizing experiences to take place, if you had enough patience.

“He said my name.” 

Angel was silent for a moment, peering over at you owlishly with a raised brow as if wondering if you were serious. And then he burst out into a fit of laughter. You supposed it  _ did _ sound funny to someone who was unaware of the struggles you faced— well, he  _ did,  _ but whether or not he took such things seriously was another question. 

In reality, Angel did and, dare he ever say it, cared for your wellbeing to  _ some  _ degree. 

Which was a staggering idea in itself. 

“ _ That’s  _ what’s got ya mopin’?  _ Spilt milk?  _ Huskie, can ya believe—” His laughter ebbed off at your expression, uncertainty plaguing his own as he fought for the right words to say. 

Your face warmed, and in that moment wanted to sink into the pits of oblivion and never return. 

He found it  _ hilarious _ that you would act in such a way over some shithead calling you by your first name; but then, as if he had some sort of epiphany, he remembered all the shit said shithead put you through. 

Ah, that made him uncomfortable. Memories that he had laid to rest were revived, and Angel found himself going  _ silent.  _

“Kid, I don’t have anything to say that you haven’t already heard before.” The gruff voice of Husk made you turn your attention to him. Like he said, he wasn’t good with words or…  _ emotions.  _ Drinking his woes away was far easier than actually dealing with them. He admired your determination to get through this, though. 

Maybe he could try. 

“I would’ve kicked the bucket a long time ago if I were you. You sure are uh…” He wasn’t sure how to tie it up. He took your glass away then, noting that you weren’t going to drink it, and then swung it back into his own mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him just as he turned around and began to reclean the glass  _ again. _

_ “ _ Tough _ .”  _

_ It was the thought that counted.  _

The rest of the evening was spent in their presence; Angel attempting to crack jokes here and there because your mood was ‘putting him in a shitty one’. You had learned that he would never  _ apologize  _ for the acts he had committed; for the hurt he had laid upon you. 

Whether it was pride or just because he was a stubborn asshat at times was something you were still trying to figure out yourself. His actions, however, despite seeming distant at times, spoke far louder than his words ever would. At the sound of scampering hooves and oinks entering the room, Angel had picked up the pig and placed it on the counter, much to Husk’s disapproval. Who  _ knew  _ where the pig had been? 

Fat Nuggets waddled over to you, and in that brief moment, surrounded by your two  _ friends,  _ you felt at ease. 

Nevertheless, you retired early that night, utterly spent. It had been so long since you had a decent night sleep and, god damn it, you were going to  _ get one.  _ Thankfully enough for you; you did. You were not plagued by shadows nor red, glowing eyes. You had peaceful dreams, or at least, as peaceful as they could get. 

The fluffiness of the blankets only lulled you into a deeper rest.

When you awoke, albeit later than you normally would, your sat up. Rubbing your eyes with a fist to remove whatever sleepiness resides within them, you released a yawn; too tempted to just stay in bed for the rest of the day. Or perhaps the rest of what you had left to endure in the wretched bowels of Hell. It was only when you forced yourself out of bed, did you notice a broom situated just next to the nightstand. You blinked.

The broom was exceedingly extravagant; appearing as if the handle were made out of obsidian itself. The bristles… were red. 

The first thought to enter your mind was not who had given it to you, but  _ how  _ a broom got into your room. You decided not to question it for your own sanity. The  _ second  _ thought was the one that flared your veins up with annoyance. The broom had a striking color scheme resemblant of a certain someone who you couldn’t bear the thought of at such an early part of your day. 

You hesitated, ghosting your fingers across the coolness of the handle. 

It wasn’t wrong to state that you needed a new broom— your other one had gotten to a point where it would break apart even despite your best efforts. Perhaps it was time to put that one to rest. With a sigh, you begrudgingly wrap your hand around the handle. While you had an inkling suspicion of who it was from, you decided you would accept it for the hotel’s behalf.

_ Not his.  _

By the time you reached the lobby, you were greeted by the sight of Vaggie helping Charlie put on a coat; her hands full of baubles and antiques that simply had no room in the hotel. They explained to you that they were going to run to a storage unit and they would be back shortly. Charlie had told Vaggie that she would be there after a moment and to wait in the car, noticing the shiny new broom in your hand. She looked unsure of how to ensure you wouldn’t overwork yourself.

“Just take it easy, okay? ”

“Okay.”

You wouldn’t. You  _ couldn’t _ take it easy; it was a hard thing to do when you had eyes on you constantly. With a sigh, you retreated in your work the moment the door was closed. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall into the depths of your mind, the background volume of the television and gentle clacking of Husk’s claws tapping on an alcohol bottle idly. Angel was nowhere to be seen, which generally meant he was snorting coke or some other drug in his room.

You didn’t doubt that he had restocked on his stash just to spite Vaggie.

_ “Hello, darling employee!” _

Your scream got caught in your throat, jumping back at the sight of a chipper individual appearing directly next to you. Your hand flew to your chest, eyes wide as you snapped your head in a manner so quick you would have given yourself whiplash if you had gone any quicker. His grin extended ear to ear at the sight of you alone; so utterly tickled at the fact that you were using his gift. 

“I see you’ve gotten some new cleaning supplies, don’t you look  _ ravishing  _ in those colors!” He loomed over you, giving you a once-over and humming in approval. 

Your fingertips flexed upon the obsidian-like rod, deeply contemplating with just hitting him with it. It had taken you a bit to realize he had complimented you, and once you did, you couldn’t help but feel taken aback. You would have been flattered if, you know, it had been someone else. 

Annoyance fluttered inside of your mind; because, even when he was being ‘ _ nice’,  _ which was a red flag in your book, you couldn’t catch a break. 

“You’re the reason my other broom kept breaking.” You muttered, a forlorn expression forming on your face at the memory. That broom had been with you since the beginning.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He straightened out his back, bringing a hand to mess with his hair in a flamboyant manner.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, cracking down on the idea that it was  _ him  _ that had given the broom to you. “Did you give me this?” You weren’t expecting a solid answer.

He looked down at you then, and then to the broom, and then back at you, before squinting impishly. “I thought investing in some proper cleaning supplies would assist Niffty and yourself in your daily duties.” He wiggled his claws teasingly at you, reaching over and pinching your cheeks in a familiar act that you  _ did not miss _ . 

You made a face, in which he fluttered his eyelashes in feigned innocence _ .  _

It was then you realize that you were holding the only apparent upgrade in the room. Niffty, ironically, darted into the lobby in a blur of pinks, whites, and yellows; immediately taking note of such a wondrous and fabulous tool in your hand. 

She gasped with an ‘ohhh man!’, giddy that you could now work properly. She started poking at it, making sure that it wouldn’t fall apart on you, all the while speaking with such a speed that made you dizzy. You watched on with amusement and surprise.

“Ooohhh! So pretty! I wish  _ I _ had something like that!” She flashed you a grin, her pupil blown out of proportion before she darted away. 

Your eyes went lidded, lips pulling at the edges as you turned to slowly look back up at Alastor. You were absolutely radiating superior, self-congratulatory smugness. You had caught him in his bullshit; and you were  _ damn  _ proud _ .  _ Tossing him a look _ ,  _ you watched as his grin twitched before a heavy breath escaped him. 

He brought his fingers up and snapped them, replacing all of the supplies in the room with the same style and importance of your own broom. 

Niffty nearly cried in happiness, inspecting all the new tools and running up to the bar, pushing it in front of Husk’s face who grunted in grumpy acknowledgement. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t look good— the new cleaning spray even had a nice scent.

Alastor had his gaze set on you the entire time as you inspected the different items; twitching his claws at his side. 

_ Perhaps he would just have to try harder.  _

Shaking away his surprise and annoyance with a flourish, his grin returned to full intensity as he made two long strides towards you. He leaned down, pressing a claw to your nose teasingly.

“ _ Don’t  _ you come in the kitchen, now!” Despite his baby tone, much to your annoyance, you couldn’t help but believe it was a thinly veiled threat. You shrugged his words off your shoulders; tempted to just go into the kitchen to spite him right then and there. But you didn’t. You were confused, and your eyebrows knit. 

_ Why was he trying to be nice to you?  _

You knew the reason, but you didn’t want to even humor the reality. 

You turned your attention over to Niffty who now acted like a child on Christmas. Sure, everything was nice, but you would never understand her intense interest regarding cleaning. You did it because you couldn’t bear sitting around while the rest of the world went on without you.

You didn’t want to be left behind. 

The cleaning was more laid back; Niffty easing you back into her insane workload that she never tired of. She was an endearing little woman (though, she acted more like a robot than an actual living, breathing person).

She deserved the upgrade more than you did. 

Skipping towards you, she took your hand into hers and tugged you along; snapping you out of your reverie. You had missed her energetic presence, the way she bounced off the walls and made you think she was on a sugar high. Honestly, at any moment you almost expected her to just collapse in a pile of sparkles. But she never did. You were a lot slower than her, but that also meant that she often missed spots in her marathon. 

_ That _ was your job. 

After an hour of doing such, the scent of vanilla and flour had begun to make its presence known. By the second hour, it was all you could smell and you cast a glance towards Husk who… was knocked out. You didn’t blame him. You wished you could conk out as easily as he did. There was clattering and cluttering originating from behind the closed doors of the kitchen. 

You had only found out exactly what he was up to when you were on your break, his egotistical voice practically singing as he beckoned you to where he was. You groaned, letting your head fall back against the headrest of the couch before pulling yourself up and dragging yourself, perhaps a bit dramatically, towards the kitchen. 

When you entered the room, your exhaustion hit you full force with no intent on stopping. It was decorated extravagantly, banners and other ornaments that looked  _ so  _ out of place hung from the walls. The treats that were laid out around the tables were  _ realistically  _ shaped and iced hearts. And, in the center of the dining table, resting in a pile of red and white roses...

_ Was an actual beating heart.  _

Your breath was caught in your throat, the blood draining from your face. Your arms fell limp at your sides. The smell was utterly putrid, even with the roses that decorated the space— they barely did anything to mask the smell of the seemingly  _ still living organ on the table _ . Alastor stared at you with a large grin, expectantly,  _ proudly,  _ before he scanned the room with you.

“What do you think, darling? I think it’s rather swell!”

His tone was jovial,  _ suave _ . He spoke with his hands before, with a few strides, coming up to you and pressing you flush against his side, motioning towards the room as he dragged you along, against your will. 

Again. 

He showed you everything, the banners that were  _ also  _ hearts, and the writing scribed upon them that said ‘Welcome Back!’ in bright, bold pink lettering. He tried to get you to eat a cookie, but you refused. 

When you questioned why _ , _ he responded with: “Why? Oh dearie me! Did you think I wouldn’t welcome my employees back?” You  _ knew  _ he wouldn’t do this for Husk. Charlie was out for a few hours. That left you. His eyes burned the top of your head; and you grew uncomfortable. You wanted to run far, far away.

This was unwanted, it was too much. He was a fucking psychopath. Crazy. Off his rocker. And yet you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the most disturbing centerpiece you had ever laid eyes upon. Alastor, of course, noticed. As if he would ever miss a thing. 

When it came to him, he often times moved so  _ quick  _ that you had to invest yourself in his presence just so you didn’t miss anything important. 

“Oh yes, _that.” _He took a step forward, still holding you against his side, eager to have you in close proximity to him. He stopped just before the centerpiece, puffing out his chest as if he were proud that you had noticed such an unmistakable _and _unmissable decoration.

“It’s such a lovely centerpiece, wouldn’t you agree? It really ties this entire thing together!” His tone was flippant, jovial, excited. A cool sheen of sweat had begun to appear upon your forehead, sickness threatening to spill from your mouth; and it would have if it were not for the sound of the swinging door being opened.

“C’mon Nugs, why ain’t you comin’? It’s just the kitchen—“ 

Angel Dust hadn’t known what he would walk in on until it was too late; and for the longest of moments, he didn’t  _ know  _ how to respond. His eyes were wide, scanning across the demented festivities, his words getting stuck in his throat. He was glad he didn’t have a nose. 

There was a low, disbelieving ‘ _ wow’  _ and a whistle accompanied by it. When he saw the two of you, he immediately understood what was going on. 

He hesitated, but knitted his brows together upon noticing you looked like you were going to faint at any moment. 

The arachnid turned his attention to the one individual that was fucked up enough to even consider doing such a thing. “Ya know, I’ve seen some shit…” he glanced down to the realistic heart-shaped cookies. He had always been a glutton for sweets, but even  _ that  _ was something he wouldn’t put to his mouth.

This was a lot worse than just a crush. This was on par with Valentino. His stomach flopped uncomfortably in his abdomen. No, this was worse. To think such a thing was definitely  _ something;  _ considering how bad Valentino actually was.

He was glad that he had bumped into Charlie when he had. 

“But this is ah…  _ pretty fucked up. _ ” He appeared nervous, and you peered at him the best you could, even with Alastor keeping you plush to his side. 

His claws drummed across your shoulder as if in deep, contemplative thought. You remained there, the movement of his claws offering you some sort of lifeline, just enough for you to keep conscious. You weren’t sure if he was even _aware_ of his own actions. 

Hell, he hadn’t been aware of his own  _ crush _ . 

Focus on the small things. There were roses. They were red and white. The banners were sparkly and pink. You nearly blacked out right then and there, holding a breath you hadn’t known you were holding until your lungs screamed for oxygen. You took a large inhale of the absolutely putrid scent, before attempting to pull away. 

There was some resistance, the feeling of Alastor’s arm tightening around you before letting up and  _ allowing  _ you to escape him. You couldn’t stand to stay in that room any longer. 

Darting out of the kitchen, you immediately collided with a larger, harder, yet fluffier frame. A clawed hand steadied you and you peered up to realize the feline’s presence. His face still maintained that infinite scowl, and you noticed that he had been only centimeters away from the kitchen door; most likely giving into his curiosity and trying to find out what the  _ fuck  _ was going on. 

There’s no words passed between you, Husk scanning your expression; his own turning even  _ more  _ sour (which you didn’t think possible). That radio fuckhead had messed with him,  _ enslaved him  _ in this hotel, and now that he was messing with the one soul that he could even tolerate? He brushed past you angrily. 

His tail swiped against your ankle before it disappeared behind the closed door he had just gone through.

His expression was unreadable when he discovered what exactly Alastor had done _ this time _ ; and to say that his wings knocked down all the utensils, plates,  _ and  _ cookies would have been an understatement. They unfurled behind him, a primal way of appearing much larger than he actually was. Far more threatening than just an old drunkard.

Not even Angel had ever seen ‘Huskie’ legitimately  _ pissed. _

_ “ _ You’ve been harassing that poor girl, and for  _ what!?”  _

His already gruff voice sounded even huskier, venom being spewed with each word. Even from behind the door, you shrunk back. With each word, he grew closer to the Radio Demon. “What do you even  _ want  _ from her? She ain’t got shit? You just tryin’ to collect her, you fuckwad?” Alastor wasn’t fazed. In fact he, like the literal piece of shit he was, leaned back on the counter and  _ grinned.  _

His eyes were pinched at the ends in what appeared to be amusement. In what could have been missed, and  _ was,  _ he tapped his claw onto the mahogany counter, dislodging his shadow from himself and having it follow  _ you. _

Husk continued to get in his face, tail lashing behind him, pointing and yelling about how he couldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer and how he was so utterly fucked up in the head. “Where do you even get off, you sick fuck? You’ve been on your own for years and  _ now  _ you want some shitty romance!?” He was  _ fuming.  _

You didn’t stick around to hear more.

Throwing open the door to the hotel, you run out and slump down on the stairs, gagging at the smell that continued to burn in your lungs. The sound of increased volume of incomprehensible yelling holds your attention for a moment, but you barely react. Your flight or fight instincts were at an all time high. 

A shadow moved across the boards of the patio; slinking closer and closer before becoming gaining  _ mass  _ and ultimately becoming physical. 

It loomed over you a few paces away, somehow holding a plate of undecorated cookies despite having the literal consistency of an amalgamated shadow. You didn’t notice until your gut feeling told you someone was  _ watching  _ you. 

When you turned around, you nearly booked it right then and there. 

You could hear the blood roaring in your head, your heart thrumming against your rib cage with a beat of a war drum. You were a deer in the headlights, so close to hyperventilation and losing your damn mind that you barely realized it held the cookies out to you in offering. When you did, you took a deep breath. 

You recognized what it was. You just… had never seen it take a physical form before; always running amongst the floors and walls but never becoming a tangible object. 

You scoot up against the railing, bringing your legs close to you. The gaping, blue maw of the… creature, the antlers that curled out intimidatingly, didn’t do much other than spook you more. It looked like a creepier version of Alastor in a more wicked sense; void of coloration. 

You supposed it made sense, considering it  _ did  _ belong to Alastor. You glanced down at your own shadow then; half-expecting it to jolt to life, but when it didn’t, you looked back up to the  _ thing _ , shakily. 

You look at the cookies as it offers it again, silently, your lip twitching. The cold air freezes your breath, and you note how there’s steam coming off of the cookies. They were just out of the oven. That explained why they weren’t decorated gruesomely. “...I don’t want it.” 

It stared at you as if calculating your response; and in that time, you found yourself to be utterly disappointed in the fact that Alastor disregarded your request without any sort of consideration. You couldn’t say you were surprised, though. 

The shadow insisted.

“I  _ DON’T  _ want it.” You snapped. The last thing you wanted were cookies. What you  _ did  _ want was to run to the ends of Hell and never look back; you wanted you curl into your blankets and never wake up again. You were so tired of his game. You didn’t want to be a game. 

The shadow bent down and placed the plate to the ground, shadow tendrils forming at its command and pushing the plate as close as it could get to you. 

You watched, silently. Seething. Why did you even try to get through to him? His skull was too  _ thick.  _ Too proud. 

And that was just the thing. He was an entity far more powerful than you; incredibly too egotistical after building himself up to such a state of incredibly ability. 

It nodded its head at you, appearing more of a blur instead of an actual solid movement. It insisted again. It wouldn’t leave until you ate a cookie. Well, guess you were stuck with a second shadow then. Or third? Alastor was practically your shadow at this point now, you thought bitterly. 

Whatever, you weren’t going to eat a damn cookie. 

“Why is he doing this? Are you him? What the fuck even  _ are  _ you?” The questions spill out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself. And then you laugh humorlessly. You had finally cracked, you had officially lost your marbles. You were talking to a  _ shadow. _

It hovered above the patio in an eternal silence, and you had begun to believe that it was just some sort of puppet that couldn’t talk, until it opened its pulsating blue maw and emitted a sound. It was a dying echo, the wail wholly unnatural, longing,  _ lost _ and it succeeded in only unnerving you further. The shadow took note and silenced itself almost immediately. 

Slowly, it passed by you and floated down the stairs. 

Knitting your brows, you couldn’t help but push yourself up and peer down towards it from where you stood. Despite being in a mixture of shock and pissed off energy, your curiosity truly knew no bounds. 

It hovered in the snow just next to the last step, and, with a movement of its hand,  _ words _ began to appear in the white dust, engraving the message in such a way that made you realize that this thing was  _ sentient.  _ That answered one question. Hesitantly and almost nervously, you walked down the stairs, still maintaining distance, but getting just close enough to see what it was writing. 

‘ _ Enchanted… to life.’  _

There were symbols next to the words that you could only guess were what was done to ‘enchant’ it. You stared for what felt like an eternity. It was talking to you. You opened your mouth, only for silence to escape you.

_ It was alive, in a way.  _

You watched it side step, and despite it appearing to be affected by the snow, it left no trace of its existence behind other than the words that were scrawled. And then, with a wave of its shadowed hand, more words appeared. 

_ ‘Likes you.’ _

An arrow was drawn, pointing to you. 

_ ‘You don’t like.’  _ It finished, turning to look at you. 

It’s expression never changed, and that unnerved you more than anything else. It was a shadow, you reminded yourself, but it was a  _ sentient  _ shadow. Shadows didn’t have expressions. You weren’t sure why you were so baffled at that, faced with all the other nonsense you had the pleasure of taking part in it. 

Nevertheless, at the words, you found yourself to be wholly confused but concentrated. 

Only when you tried to piece together what it was referring to, did it click.  _ It was talking about you and Alastor.  _ Your mouth felt dry, but you swallowed anyway. 

“I-if you, his…  _ shadow,  _ can figure that out,” you croaked out, nervous. Was all of this feeding directly back to Alastor? “Then why can’t he?” You watched as it turned back around, and began to respond. Your eyebrows were raised in confusion and inquisitiveness. 

Despite being in the state that you were in, this  _ thing  _ was giving you answers. 

‘ _ Likes you lots.’  _ It began underlining the word ‘lots’ over and over again like a broken record, and it only got its point across more dramatically. It stopped when you responded with the most basic question known to mankind. 

“Why?” 

It didn’t respond, motionless. Either it wouldn’t say or it didn’t know. 

Albeit shakily, you walked over to the shadow warily, entirely untrusting of it. Leaning down, picking up a stick, you circled, ‘you don’t like’ over and over again. You let the branch fall from your grasp, eyes darting up at the creature with a huff.  _ That  _ was your final answer.

It’s consistency was like smoke, but cold. It was hauntingly terrifying. It remained there, wavering and silent. The odd movements of its being fluctuating between being physical mass and a mirage. It couldn’t stay there forever, and somehow you were just able to  _ tell.  _

It would eventually return to Alastor’s being, eternally enslaved to his side; but you supposed that was all the shadow was meant for. It’s maw opened and closed, blue saliva dripping down as it until, at last, it showed you what it wanted. 

The cookies. 

You glanced over along towards the direction of the heart-shaped cookies, a heavy sigh falling from your lips. Stalking over to the plate, you pulled yourself up the stairs and leaned down to grab a singular one. Inspecting it thoroughly as if expecting it to start beating right then and there, you brought it to your lips and took the most minuscule of bites you could do.

You refused to accept that the cookie was  _ good _ . 

The shadow departed with a bow; and you watched as it lost its mass in a concoction of dark smoke and flinted sparks. Placing the cookie down back to the plate, you turned and took a glance back over to the indentations in the snow. Such a pure coloration didn’t belong in the red world; but the bitterness of the temperature did keep you stable enough to process your thoughts. 

You didn’t even know where to  _ begin. _

Perhaps, in another life, you would have been  _ honored  _ to be a subject of interest for Alastor— but after all the shit he pulled, he wouldn’t get off the hook. The thought of all of this being based off a childish  _ crush,  _ was something so utterly  _ odd  _ and uncomfortable for you that you didn’t really… know how to respond. 

He had not only violated you multiple times, but obsessed over you in the unhealthiest ways. He had made you paranoid, he had caused you to lose sleep over him, you had shed more tears than you could count over him. He had caused you far more trouble than it was worth and by god were you  _ infuriated  _ with him. 

But how could you get through to someone who didn’t want to listen?

Lost in your stubborn thoughts, you barely noticed the doggy-door (that had only recently been installed) being pushed open by a pink snout. The clicking of hooves had managed to pull you out of your contemplation and deliberation. Peering down at the sound of something being munched on, you noticed a very familiar pig oinking happily, seemingly unaffected by the chill of the winter weather. You were happy for the distraction. 

Just thinking about him made you exhausted.

Notwithstanding the idea of remaining in your own thoughts, you leaned down and grabbed the plate. It was much to the disappointment of Fat Nuggets who in turn peered at you with such sadness that his beady little eyes that you wanted to give him  _ ten  _ plates. 

“Nope, come on. Angel will kill me if he finds out you’re out here.” You take a step forward and the pig oinks sadly, but upon realizing that it wouldn’t get anymore cookies, squeezed through the small opening of the door and went back inside. With a heavy sigh, as if bracing yourself for the worst, you opened the door and followed. Thankfully nothing was destroyed— inside the kitchen, however, you didn’t want to find out. 

You were still trying to wrap your head over everything. 

The pig now followed you around, now that it wasn’t being given attention from its rightful owner. Said owner was trying to soothe an extremely pissed off feline behind a bar, which you didn’t stick around to see the aftermath of. Instead, you took comfort in it’s presence. “You’re cute, I’ll give you that.” You looked down to the pig, placing the plate down briefly onto the counter, and crouching down; making a grab by hand motion. 

It came to you, and you scooped it up. It oinked happily before finding interest in your hair, trying to eat it. You shut that down quickly by pushing your hair to the side, reprimanding the pig by a stern baby tone, stating how it should know better. Sheesh, you had really gone soft for the pig. In some way, you had begun to think of it as your pet too. 

Angel would just have to share. 

“Angel, I’m taking your pig.” 

“Whateva’. Now, Huskie—“ you stopped listening after that.

In spite of that, you took the plate of cookies and carried the happily wiggling pig to your room where you would retire for the rest of the day. You couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same vicinity as Alastor, especially after that stunt he pulled. Said demon was blocking your path towards the hallway leading to your room, and without even  _ stopping _ , you ducked past him, completely ignoring his presence. 

His eyes narrowed, watching as you disappeared down the hallway, head turning to follow you at an unnatural and inhuman angle. He noticed you took the cookies with you, and his grin extended. Perhaps you had liked them, then.

Upon reaching your room, you had begun feeding the cookies to the  _ pig _ when it succeeded in a trick. You were proud of him; he learned quickly. He learned even  _ quicker  _ when you had food. He was gluttonous, but you supposed it was to be expected by a literal pet pig. 

“Roll over, Nugs.” You had adopted the nickname for an easier time. 

The pig stared at the cookie in your hand, making no movement to do what you requested. 

You snapped your fingers, letting out a sharp whistle to get its attention. “Come on, you know this, bud!” When he finally rolled over, you let a genuine grin appear on your lips. Such an endearing little creature. You cooed, and upon rolling back over, it hopped from hoof to hoof squealing excitedly.

You gave the cookie, as promised, to Fat Nuggets. 

The hours passed quicker when you were having fun, and by the time you were out of cookies, it had been a few. The already dark, red sky had grown to an ever darker shadow, signifying the time of day. Or night. Releasing a yawn, you picked up the plate and the pig, and returned to the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie had returned at that point, and upon hearing what had happened by the two blabbermouths in the lobby, Vaggie had stopped you. 

“Hey uh, are you alright?” 

You instantly knew what she was referring to, and you didn’t offer her even a glance of confusion. Her eyebrows were knitted, and with a soft sigh, you leaned down and let the pig go. It scampered over to Angel Dust who  _ immediately  _ began to gush over him. Straightening back up, you frowned slightly at the memory. 

“I don’t think I’ve been alright for a long time, Vaggie.” You joked humorlessly, and she gave an equally humorless half-smile. Vaggie was rough around the edges, but she did care about the residents of the Hotel at the end of the day, and that, of course, included  _ you _ . 

Vaggie knew how deep in the bullshit you were, and she pitied you. But there wasn’t anything any of them could do— if there had been, it would have been done a  _ long  _ time ago. She was glad to see that you hadn’t broken under pressure yet; despite not being there for Husk’s compliment, she did admire how tough you were. 

You were perhaps the only one who was resilient enough to deal with the Radio Demon. 

After a short conversation, more so brought upon by Charlie’s concern that she had expressed during their trip to the storage facility than anything else. She had also been told to try to be more open with the other residents, and after much contemplation, she had decided to approach you  _ first.  _ It was progress, at least.

After bidding you goodnight, and hopefully it would be a  _ good  _ one, you had begun to return to your room; the door open ajar just slightly. You had closed it. You  _ remembered.  _ Your eye twitched, pausing to gaze at the slit in the mahogany wood almost nervously. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your own damn room. 

Bracing yourself for seeing Alastor himself, you were surprised to see that the room was  _ empty.  _ Everything was the same, nothing was touched or moved. When you took in a deep inhale, the scent of  _ roses  _ met you. 

Turning your attention to the bed, you noticed a beautiful bouquet settled upon your pillow. You were touched, the slightest bit, until you realized who they must have come from.

Stalking over to the bedside, you reached over, hesitant as if the roses would come alive somehow and bite your fingers, but when you ran them over, they didn’t turn into a ferocious monster. No, but they did do something else.You watched with a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and annoyance as the flowers wilted immediately, dying under your touch. You pulled your hand away. 

This man really had an  _ audacity _ . 

A few roses snapped off of the stems, dousing your pillows with dead petals. Now you had to clean your bed off before you could sleep. Placing the bouquet on your end table, you did just that. By the time you got changed into the most comfortable attire that you owned, fluffy pajamas that insulated you in warmth, battling the chill of the outside world, you had pulled the quilt back. 

Settling in, you turned out the light and settled in for the night. 

You laid there for what felt like hours despite your exhaustion, tossing and turning, kicking your blankets off and returning them to cover you again. You were kept up with the memories of that earlier day—  _ who’s heart was that?  _ Why was he doing this? Would he continue to pull things like this? Not only that, but he had completely disregarded your request for privacy. 

You couldn’t even think alone without having some part of him, be it physical manifestation or just the  _ thought  _ of him, on your mind. He not only had gotten himself in  _ deep  _ with whatever sort of obsession, but if that weren’t the worst thing, he was completely infatuated. 

You felt nauseous.

Leaning over, you pulled on the chain for the lamp, dousing the room with light. You ran your fingers through your hair, blinking and wincing as your eyes became adjusted to the sudden change. This was ridiculous. Sitting up and crossing your legs, you ran your hands down your face, groaning all the way before heaving yourself off of the bed. A heavy sigh fell from your lips, stomach tightened uncomfortably. 

You wanted this to be over, was that too much to ask for? He just… didn’t understand. Grabbing the bouquet of dead roses, you pulled open the door, you make your way down the dimly lit hallway. The shadows that were caused by different sorts of furniture would have made you paranoid if you weren’t in such a rut. The stairs creaked under your weight as you made your way up.

The fact that you had to do this now, and that it couldn’t wait until the morning was insane.

You find your way towards his door almost  _ too  _ easily, and you hesitate. Your annoyance and frustration drown out your worries though, and you bring your fist up to knock at the wood. Once. Twice. A third time. There’s silence. 

And then there’s a light that flickers on. Your heart lodged in your throat— any thought of escaping while you still could, left your mind the moment the door opened. His attire was changed which was a surprise in itself; he still adorned the tell-tale reds and blacks that he always did, but he was wearing  _ pajamas.  _ They were striped,  _ silk. _ His monocle was still posed over his eye… The weirdo. _ _

You would have laughed if you hadn’t found yourself at his door at such a late hour for reasons that you had to face. 

“How can I be of assistance…” His tone is deeper by an octave, brought on by lack of use through sleep, “At such an hour?” His eyes flickered to a clock behind your head that was so conveniently placed. You could only he hope he was an inkling as annoyed as you were. He was  _ loud,  _ which shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was. He had no consideration for the rest of the sleeping residents. 

He looked down at the roses then, his lipped smile now turning into a full-fledged grin. “So you received them! I—“

You bring a finger to your lips, shushing him just as loudly. The reason for  _ your  _ loudness was from your frustration. Pushing the wilted flowers towards him, you let them fall from your grip, not caring if they fell to the ground or if he caught them. Without any regard for your safety, without a care of being  _ polite  _ anymore, you barged right past him and into his own damn room.

You had a long day, and he was the reason you were in such a crotchety mood in the first place. He was the reason for  _ all of this.  _

He remained positioned in the doorway for the longest of moments, claws flexing around the bouquet of dead roses in contemplation and perhaps even surprise. You weren’t sure what he was thinking; you  _ never  _ did and never  _ wanted  _ to. You had a feeling you would go to the point of no return even if you had the tiniest look-see. 

You hoped, in your anger, that he was getting a glance of all the violation of privacy that he had caused to you and others. You wanted him to experience all the uncomfortable, shocked emotions you had to deal with on the  _ daily.  _

He turns around them, placing the flowers down on his own bedside table. The sound of crickets filled the silence of the room, and if you had looked around, you would have found that they were coming from  _ inside. _

Half of his room was a literal  _ swamp,  _ stumps of trees,  _ water  _ that somehow didn’t seep through the cracks of wood, grass… in the center of it all was a single round table with a high-backed chair. The other half, the half that you  _ could  _ see from your position, was an actual room that was adorned with the fanciest furniture and draperies you had ever seen. 

But you didn’t notice, because it wasn’t your priority. 

You point to the bed with an almost unreadable, annoyed expression. Your neck hurt from having to look up so often. If you were going to talk, then you weren’t going to do it through discomfort.

_ “We need to talk.”  _


	30. Happy New Years, Ya Filthy Animal

Alastor let out a low hum, the act in itself causing a vibration to race up his throat; truly, he had been hoping you would compliment him on how creative he had been.

You watched with a scornful expression as he contemplated your request; he had every right to just ignore it, you had been _ expecting _him to. But here you were, in his room, completely and utterly overwhelmed and disbelieving of all the things you had to go through; even so late at night. 

He was out of his damn mind, and you were so tired of having to put up with it. 

It was then that you noticed, as he walked towards the bed, that he had a _ tail. _Your anger faltered for a moment, confusion taking its place. Your eyes trained on the fluffy thing that just so happened to be the same shade and coloration as his hair with a raised brow. Only when he turned back around did you snap your gaze to him, and with it, your annoyance reignited at full intensity.

The tail was forgotten for another time. 

He sat down, the bed dipping under his weight; unlike your bed, it didn’t cry out from the creakiness. It was silent; _ he _was silent, claws nicking at the quilt, stare ever undecipherable.

His expression, paired with his own raised eyebrow, indicated that he was waiting for something to happen. Waiting for _ you _to pipe up and unravel all of your worries and woes to him in a less than pleasing manner. 

The smile, ever eternal, was lipped; at ease. Nothing pissed you off more. He didn’t even want to humor the thought that he was in the wrong.

“_What are you doing?” _ You hissed out.

“Well, I believe I’m doing exactly what you just asked of me. Sitting!” 

He sat up straight, poised, motioning with his hands to bring attention to himself, tone light and chipper. He cocked his head at you, ruffled hair from a night’s rest appearing all the more disheveled and billowy.

You wanted to scream. Your eye twitched. Of course he wouldn’t just get to the point, _ of course _he wouldn’t just give you a straight answer. No, the bastard in the striped pajamas would take all the routes possible to avoid such a thing. Taking a deep inhale, you close your eyes and collect your bearings, lest you lose your mind right then and there. 

And let’s face it, you were already borderline. 

You were in disbelief that he, the infamous Radio Demon, could be so stupid. So utterly _ thick in the head. _

“You seem troubled,” his voice lilted at the sound of your name on his tongue, tone wavering between an impish smugness that he always had and legitimate concern. 

You opened your eyes, taking a step forward. Whatever patience you had, whatever self restraint you possessed, had snapped in that moment. 

“I _am_ fucking troubled, _you _are my trouble.” You point at him, face contorting into a grimace. “You need to stop invading my space, no more gifts, no more shadow people, I didn’t ask for any of this. I told you, _I told you _that I don’t want any of this attention on me, but you won’t _stop_!” Your hands were in your hair, threatening to pull it out. 

You were overwhelmed, understandably, beyond your own comprehension.

Alastor remained motionless, deep in thought. Or so you supposed. 

The ticking of the clock outside the room reminded you that time still existed even after death, and you were wasting it on him. You weren’t sure what was going on through that wicked head of his, but whatever it was, you hoped it had some semblance of reality kicking him in the ass. 

He squinted his eyes at you, and you narrowed them right back. 

“Darling, it _ pains _ me to see you so bothered.” Alastor was well aware that he was unable to stop, so you would just have to come to an _ agreement. _There was no such reality of deterring him from his desires, however, if he had to go about it in a different, more minute manner, he would. “How am I to make this better?” 

_ You literally just told him. He was so dense. _

That, or he had the inability to listen to reason. “Don’t come in my room—“

“Sweetheart, I only did that twice!”

“—Don’t touch_ me_, don’t _ look _ at me. I don’t want to see anymore organs in the hotel. I don’t want you to even _ breathe _ in my direction.” Only in Hell, only with _ him, _did you have to make such a specific request. 

He released a hearty laugh of amusement. “Oh no, don’t be ridiculous now.” He waved a hand at you as if you were the funniest thing. 

However, that _ did _manage to take a few of the running ideas out of his demented head. Such an absurd little dame you were, and to boot, he had an almost infinite amount of entertainment just by being in the same vicinity as you. 

You watched with a burning intensity as he lifted himself up and strolled over to you, an airy grin spreading across his lips. He leaned down, violating your personal bubble. His next words felt like a punch to the gut. 

“You see, I’m at a loss.” A singular claw twirled around a strand of your hair. “For how else am I to win your heart?” He tilted his head, disheveled hair flopping to the side. His ear craned towards you, genuinely curious; tone inquisitive yet holding a brief breath of a tease. 

You blinked, once, twice, thrice. This idiot, this stalker, this _ monster_, had not only disregarded everything you had just said, but did it in front of you. He had shown no sympathy nor any indication that it had not gone through one ear and out the next. 

You balled up your first, reaching up and yanking him down to you, blatantly disregarding his ‘five foot rule’ and, in doing so, your own safety. 

You brought your face close to his insufferable one. “You are a piece of shit, _ fuck you.” _ You seethed. “I TOLD YOU I AM _ DONE _WITH YOUR GAME!” 

Letting go of him, you pushed him back roughly, in which he allows you to. “Leave me _ alone!” _Offering one last pissed off glance at his own amused and mildly surprised expression, you made your getaway, swinging the door open—not bothering to close it behind you—and storming back down to your room.

Upon returning, nausea had crept up in your stomach. You felt weak; even more exhausted than you had been before you went up there. It caused you to second guess going up to his room in the first place; at the very least, now that your daily rant was out of the way, you could rest your weary head. Curling into the warmth of the blankets, your slumber was welcoming and light, your mind trying desperately to repair the damage the onslaught of stress Alastor had caused you. 

When you woke up the next morning, you were pleasantly surprised to note that said pain in your ass was nowhere to be found. Knowing him, you had _ not _gotten through to him and it was just another case of him figuring out what he was going to ‘woo’ you with next. 

You could hope, though. 

You had been hesitant to enter the kitchen, but once you did, you were relieved to find that it was vacant of the rotting smell and the overwhelming pink and red decorations. It was normal. It was just a regular kitchen. Stealing a granola bar, you had begun to turn around when an excited and very light voice caught your attention. 

“Congratulations! You’re invited!~ Vaggie had a wonderful idea that we should hold a New Years costume party to not only celebrate the recent opening of the Hotel, but to hopefully show some demons around the premises! We have a lot of rooms, we need to start filling them up, ya know?” Her word vomit made you blink, and she bounced off of her toes in an action reminiscent of childlike excitement. You smile tiredly. 

“When is it?” It occurred to you that you weren’t even aware what _ day _it was. You brought your granola bar to your lips. 

“Tonight!” 

You choked on your food, “W-what?” 

Vaggie remained in the background, tidying up. She shook her head mildly— Charlie needed to stop babying you, but she _ was _endeared by the thought of you and Charlie having such a sweet relationship. It was nice to see someone so accepting of Charlie’s nature. 

When Charlie explained to you the reasoning and how this could be such a boost for the hotel, you couldn’t help but give in. You weren’t aware that someone could put together a party so fast. You guessed she got that trait from her father. He seemed like a party type of dude. 

“Could you run up to the attic and bring down the decorations? Bring someone with you, though. Some of them are heavy.” 

You turned your attention back to her, face twisting up because hadn’t she spent the day yesterday putting decorations that weren’t needed in a storage facility? She noticed your confused expression and nodded. 

“Those were for a season that has already passed. Now off you go!” She pushed you gently out the door, motioning for Husk to help you out. Her stern expression held no room for rebuttal, Charlie was a busy woman and if she were to make this party as well as she wanted it to turn out, everyone needed to get started immediately. 

The beginning of the walk was quiet enough; the attic at the furthest side of the hotel for a _ reason. _No one liked attics. They were creepy, dark, and dusty. Luckily for you, Husk doesn’t seem sober enough to talk about what happened the previous day and, with the desire to just put it behind you and move on, you didn’t comment. 

The swishing of his tail against the carpet did aid in the silence, though. 

“Did you know about the costume party?” You broke said silence.

“The what?” His ears perked at the question before pivoting towards you. 

Oh. 

“The costume party— y’know, the thing that we’re walking to the attic to get decorations for…?” You trailed off. 

“Wasn’t aware of no fuckin’ costume party. I ain’t dressin’ up, either.” He grumbled, and by the time the two of you reach the attic and top up with decorations— you were glad you had brought him along. You had three boxes, all rather heavy and stacked high; Husk carrying two heavier ones. He muttered under his breath the entire time. 

You were hesitant to wonder if Charlie’s true reason for this surprise party, was to make everyone happier. You also wondered if you, for once, could actually have fun. The word tasted funny on your tongue, but it was tantalizing. You were in desperate need of getting your mind out of the constant thoughts of ‘what if’s’ and ‘why’s’. 

When you return to the lobby after a few stops to rest your arms, you note that Angel and Fat Nuggets we’re finally up. They watched Vaggie and Charlie decorate idly, eating popcorn, and not bothering to assist despite you struggling to hold up the heavy boxes. 

“Angel, can you give me a hand? Or two, or three?” It could have come across as a joke, but your tone stated otherwise. Who knew how many arms the arachnid had. 

He chewed his popcorn louder, trying to drown you out. 

“_ Angel!” _You snap, nearly about to drop the boxes.

The effeminate spider threw his head back dramatically, a long ‘_ugh’ _ dousing the otherwise semi-silent lobby. He finally got up, letting the popcorn fall to the couch, in which Fat Nuggets happily munched on it. Walking over to you, he took a _ single _box out of your hands.

You make a face. A moment passes. 

He grabs the other box with his other set of arms. “There, _ ya happy?” _He stated sassily, resting the boxes with the others. You’re left with the heaviest box, and you mimic his movements. You manage a ‘thank you’ in which he waves his hand to dismiss you with a ‘yeah, yeah.’

Alastor, the ever elusive Radio Demon, had returned to the lobby; pretending to manage over everything, giving the most basic command to those who inquired. A singular ear remained pivoted towards you, constantly. 

“Why don’t you go get changed into more comfortable attire and help set up?” Charlie piped up as she passed by you. She was holding a notebook, scribbling down and making sure everything was coming together fine. 

You release a silent sigh of relief at the fact that you would not only be able to play your part, really, you hadn’t done_ much, _ but also get into a more comfy clothes. That was a plus in your book. Heading back up to your room to change into a more comfortable attire. 

You briefly wondered what you could wear to a _ costume _party. Alastor could go as himself, because he was already a fucking clown. You huff, pushing your door open. You were never one for holding creativity for costumes.

The first sight that meets up is an old pistol that you hope is fake on your nightstand. 

You immediately think of shooting Alastor in the face. 

The second sight is a beautiful hunting outfit that was set out on your bed. You start to laugh, softly at first, before it bubbles up into true, genuine laughter. Charlie must have set it out for you when you had gone to the attic, knowing you wouldn’t know what to dress as. 

That wasn’t what tickled you, but it was the fact that there was a _ deer _in the hotel. You wiped away an amused tear before moving to your bed to inspect it further. 

Instead of the usual beige color, everything, except for the red coat, was in black. Even the hat, which had velvet lining on the inside. The capris appear as if they would fit you nicely, the design reminiscent of a time long before you with how they flared up and fit at the bottom of your knee. 

Complete with black hunting boots, she had thought of everything. You hoped that this was just something she had sitting around— you had seen several of the paintings in the hotel, and you knew she had many different outfits from several different eras. Red and black were definitely a common color down here. 

You couldn’t help but feel the beginnings of excitement. This was something to look forward to, which, for as long as you could remember, wasn’t something that existed in your little world. Nevertheless, you hurried and changed into a more comfortable attire suited for moving things around. 

When you returned, the sight that greeted you of baubles, lights, and different items surprised you.

You hadn’t been gone long at all and yet, everything was already done. You blinked owlishly and stopped Charlie to inquire about it. She shrugged, taking a look around with a happy grin before nodding towards _ Alastor _ who was peering around as well. 

“He finished up while you were upstairs.”

Your fingertips twitched, glaring daggers at him. This was _ your _job. He should just go back to baking cookies. He was so annoying. Charlie noticed and smiled lightly. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you something else to do.” So much for not babying you. She gasped then, and you could literally see a lightbulb going off in her head. 

“You can help with the hors devours!” 

“The what?” You question. Whores detours?

“Hor devours. The appetizers.” She clarifies. “Al is going to make them.” She turns to face him in the corner of the room. He finally caught both of your gazes. “In the kitchen. Alone_ . By himself.” _His grin extended, and with an obnoxious bow, he disappeared into the kitchen.

_ Good riddance. _

Charlie turned back to face you with a goofy smile. She placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you. “You can hand them out. All you have to do is hold the tray.” 

You nodded, agreeing to the terms. It sounded simple enough. 

“Charlie, don’t you think this is all a bit… sudden?” 

She had forgotten how overwhelming it must have been for a newcomer like yourself. “Oh not at all, that’s how the party scene works down here!” She paused for effect. “I mean, you should have seen the Great Depression party my Dad threw together after the stock market crashed! He pulled that together in an hour!” 

There was an audible gasp emitted from the kitchen, something clattering to the floor. You eyed the door warily. Charlie tossed you an apologetic smile, suddenly remembering that Alastor was a buff for that time in history, or rather, for the _ suffering _that occurred.

But before either of you could comment on it, the kitchen door burst open. Alastor held a mixing bowl in his hand, whisking away at some concoction. He strides right over to the origin of the conversation that he eavesdropped on. 

“_The Great Depression!” _He stated loudly, a look of recollection forming on his face. 

”It was only a depression for all those pesky orphans, some of us had the time of our lives! The separation of the peasants from those with class, it was filled with Jazz and the best parties of New Orleans, why Mardi Gras was just _ splendid _ in twenty-nine, you should have seen the crawfish, darling, oh! And seafood feasts that were just resplendent!” His eyes never left you and you paled at the realization of it. 

He was talking to you.

Charlie’s eyes widened, and she started shoving him back into the kitchen. “Don’t you have work to do? Those pigs in a blanket aren’t going to make themselves!” 

Angel yelled from over the couch: “Ya leave ‘Nugs outta this!” 

You took that as your cue. Now that you had an outfit, you needed to get ready. Strolling over to the other side of the couch, you looked over at the arachnid. “Angel?”

He glanced over at you with a sneer. “What ya want now, toots?”

“Can you help me with my makeup? You do it _ so _well!” Yes, you knew how to kiss his ass. You fluttered your eyelashes in appeasement.

He groaned even louder than the first time, which you hadn’t thought was possible. He desperately wanted to flat out say ‘no’ because he had his _ own _ costume to get ready. That shit took time. “I gotta do _ EVERYTHIN’ _in this household.” He rolled his eyes dramatically before, with a flourish, picking himself and ‘Nugs up. 

He pointed to you. “_Fine, _ but only because yer so hopeless.” Without a reply from you, he shoved you down the hallway and up the stairs. He was _ busy, _ okay? He doesn’t have time for helping! Much less a lost soul like _ you. _

His thoughts didn’t hold venom, however; and that pissed him off. He didn’t like getting close to people; it was easy to just… detach. But you and Charlie and the rest of the _ crew _ were making it incredibly difficult.

When you near his door, he struts in front of you, let you in, and promptly closed it behind him. 

And then you were pushed into the vanity chair; watching as all of his arms popped out; muttering how he wasn’t a stylist and didn’t have enough time for all of this. His comb yanks your hair and you hiss. He doesn’t apologize. 

“If ya think gettin’ into drag is easy, yer damn wrong. That wig—“ he motions with an arm towards the wig in the bed. It was the same color as his fur, very flamboyant and probably just as expensive as his coat. “—Is gonna take me thirty minutes to wrestle into!”

“I don’t want to go into drag.” You wince as he pulls on your hair again. He notices this time and, just by a _ fraction, _does he let up his frustrations. You weren’t sure what he was frustrated about; perhaps he just didn’t like to go to parties on such short notice. You understood.

“Not everything is about ya, toots. I’m talkin’ ‘bout _ me _ , and when we get done ya _ betta _be grateful!”

You remain quiet, and when you tried to nod, he told you to not move. He moved from your hair in record timing, and took upon working on your makeup. As he took the eyeliner out and brought it to your eye, you flinched back. 

With a mutter under his breath, he set down the comb that he still had in one of his hands, and used it to grab the bottom of your face to keep you still. 

Eyeliner could be dangerous. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t go over the top. Angel knew when enough was enough, which was ironic based on his… costume. You were thankful, and in doing so, you listened to him vent about different things. 

Of course, they weren’t the things that plagued his mind when he tried to go to sleep at night; no, the two of you weren’t at that part in _ whatever _this was. He didn’t want to humor the thought of ‘friendship’. 

Subconsciously, the smallest of smiles teased at his lips as he looked at his latest art piece. Perfect. Well, as perfect as you could get down here. You were all a buncha fucked up sinners one way or another.

Letting your face go, in which you began to bring your hand to rub at your jaw, your hand was swatted away. 

“No touchin’. I ain’t goin’ through that again.”

He brings an arm around and spins the chair, allowing you to take note of yourself. There wasn’t anything dramatic that stuck out to you. He had accentuated your features; perhaps even exaggerating them with the winged eyeliner and the glittering eyeshadows; all brought together with a gloss upon your lips. 

Natural as it came.

You couldn’t help but feel the giddiness start to rise in your stomach-- or was that just nervousness? For you, they were two in the same. Anxiety, excitement, whatever. 

You were ready to get down there and drink all your agonies and woes of this place away. You didn’t even care about the wicked hangover you would get the following day. 

A grin made its way upon your face, and getting up from the chair, you offered a word of thanks and sprinted out of the room before he had the chance to respond, eager to get things _ started. _

When you reached your room, you began to change. It was all rather straightforward, the pants, then the socks, shoes, shirt, jacket-- oops, almost forgot the hat. Wedged under your arm, you dart out of the room. 

The outfit was light against you; it definitely didn’t _ look _it, but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be held down. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the lights flickering and appearing exceedingly gorgeous, even with how hastily they were put up, there was a knock on the door. 

Charlie barreled past you to open it.

She had been expecting early party guests, and she had been partly correct in that at least. Though, when she opened those wide doors, she couldn’t help the tears that started to sting the corners of her eyes. 

Lucifer and Lilith Magne were knocking on the door. At the sight of her daughter, Lilith bound in, wrapping her only child in a big hug, crushing the smaller demon hybrid to her chest. Lucifer let himself in without saying anything, quite used to how his wife and daughter got when they were in close spaces. It had been a while since they had all been together like this.

For you though, well this was your first time laying eyes on Charlie’s mom. Out of all the demons you had laid eyes on, by far she was the tallest. She was taller than _ Alastor. _ Her height was impressive, even if you weren’t taking into account the added foot of her horns. Lucifer looked like a child in comparison to her. When she finally released her daughter from her grip, you’re taken aback by her stunning beauty.

Her hair laid around her as if it had its own life, and that life was only to make sure that her face was perfectly framed at all times. You could have sworn she waxed her horns as well, because they were incredibly and irresistibly shiny. In short, Lilith was_ breathtaking_. 

If you had been gay, you would have been absolutely devastated that she was already taken… especially by such a short demon. You supposed power did speak louder than physical appearances, though. 

After you finished fully taking in Lilith, you were finally able to take notice of the costumes they had both arrived in. Lucifer looked as if he had just strolled out of a party from the roaring twenties: his suit jacket was perfectly pressed, white pinstripes only flattering his form as he tapped his cane impatiently on the floor, awaiting his daughter's attention. 

His hat even had what you could of sworn was an angel feather in it. You wondered if it was one of his… If he even still had wings. 

Lilith looked every part the picturesque flapper of the twenties. Her pearl strand was wrapped around her lithe neck, before fluttering down her body. The pale colors of her dress made it seem like the dress had been made for her. Considering Charlie’s family, and how financially well off they were, it probably was.

It wouldn’t have shocked you to find out that the fabric had been based off of the royal family’s pristine skin. The beading alone on her dress must have taken someone’s lifetime to finish. It was truly stunning.

It took you a moment to realize that they were dressed as characters from The Great Gatsby, and Lilith had arrived as Daisy.

You had noticed the same time Charlie had, because Charlie started giggling, pointing out the little daisies that adorned the edges of Lilith’s dress. Her mother was beaming down at her, and you realized that was precisely where Charlie’s own smile came from. “We are both darling creatures now, my sweet girl!” Lilith pulled Charlie back into her to give her another bone crushing hug. Charlie didn’t seem to mind at all, wrapping her arms back around her mother. 

Lucifer looked on with a smug look on his features. He was content with the way his family interacted with one another, his own father had a horrible temper, but he had never thrown his own child out of the house so to speak. No, he actually adored his own child, he couldn’t imagine treating Charlie the way he had been treated. 

Besides, his ladies were the most beautiful in creation, he was allowed to be smug about it.

Angel whistled to get everyone’s attention on him as he started to strut down the stairs. His long legs were adorned in pale stockings, his pale pink garter on full display from the short wrap skirt spanning his hips.

His lean toned abdomen was decorated with a shimmering chain that was spotted with white swarovski crystals, they moved with him as he stepped down the stairs. 

His hair, well, you understood why it took him a long time to wrestle into it. It was half his height. White blonde, curled in perfect waves that fluttered about his shoulders as he took elongated, dramatic steps down to the main room.

When he set eyes on Lilith, a fellow entertainer, his eyes brightened considerably. They had crossed paths several times performing in clubs over the years, though he only saw her when he was performing in the _ nice clubs_. 

He waved at her, a goofy, suave smile adorning his face. 

“Heya dollface, thought ya’d be singin’ in some hoity toity place tonight?” He was level with Lilith with the stilettos he had on. You wonder how he didn’t trip to his eternal suffering in such stilts. 

Lilith wrapped her arms around Charlie once again, reaching to her side to pull Lucifer into her deadly grasp as well. “I’m right where I need to be. Celebrating the New Year with my family!”

Lucifer looked _ ridiculous _ with half of his face crushed into his wife’s hip, that giant predatory grin still manifested upon his face. You supposed you would be grinning like an idiot too if Lilith was your wife. She probably _ manhandled _ him in private, much to Lucifer’s own delight. It wasn’t even a guess anymore, no, you were sure of it. 

Slowly you make your way towards the bar, in which Husk was leaning on his elbow and making idle motions with his drink. His frown formed even deeper into his face, and if you could have seen him over the counter, you would have noticed that his tail was lashing. Taking a seat upon the stool, you gave him a once over.

You couldn’t tell what he was supposed to be, at first. In fact, you had briefly wondered if he had just flat-out said ‘no’, which wouldn’t have been a surprise. And then you landed on his ears. Or, the _ extra _ ears on his head. Before you could open your mouth, the sound of shoes tapping against the hardwood caught your attention. Taking your eyes off of the winged feline, you looked over to the devil himself.

_ “And you’re supposed to be~?” _

Husk grumbled underneath his breath. Lucifer put a hand to his ear, indicating that he was the smug bastard that you were already aware he was. At least he wasn’t as bad as Alastor. You could actually find yourself enjoying his goofiness at times; but that didn’t change the fact that he was just as intimidating. If not more.

“I’m a fuckin’ cat, get off my back.” He busied himself with pouring you a drink. 

His grin was extended, just as sharp as you had remembered. His gaze was solely focused on Husk with a raised brow before, with a wave of his hand, a glass levitated towards him. Silence filled the small space, except for the tapping of Lucifer’s claws as he hummed a song that didn’t exist quite yet. 

“Oh, _ Huskie~” _

Angel strutted up to the bar with elegance, Lucifer calmly sipping on a drink with a cocked eyebrow; he watched the interaction with amusement; you looked on in confusion. You weren’t drunk enough for this. Husk, apparently wasn’t either. Then again, he never was. 

Angel hopped up onto the counter, pushing away the glasses that were lined up. He leaned back against Husk who pulled away from him; uncaring if the arachnid fell. Your face began to heat up in embarrassment _ for _ Husk when Angel began to _ sing. _A song that wasn't one that wasn’t made up from the top of his head. 

“If ya want my body and ya think I'm sexy,” he hiked up his legs, swinging them over the bar so he sat directly in front of Husk. An arm reached over to dance across the feline’s fur. “Come on, suga’, let me know.” 

Husk looked like he was ready to walk out right then and there. You didn’t blame him. 

“If ya really need me, just reach out and _ touch _ me,” Angel’s voice lowered an octave in thinly veiled seduction, his exaggerated eyelashes fluttering at the feline. He hopped off of the counter, running a hand along Husk’s chest. Said demon had his wings extended as he tried to right himself properly, before he reached back and shoved Angel away. 

Angel hit the back of the counter with a _ slam, _ and you could only watch with wide eyes, you face threatening to melt off as the arachnid moaned, cutting off his song right then and there. “Oh, _ harder daddy~” _

“If you fuckin’ keep this shit up, I’ll drink the whole bar myself.” Husk grunted, flickering an ear in an annoyed manner. He was glad he had fur, lest his slightly flustered cheeks give away his true feelings. 

_ Whatever the fuck those were. _

Lucifer burst into loud, hearty, posh laughter, slamming his glass down onto the table and causing the three of you to look over at him. “Oh,” he chuckled, noticing that the entertainment had stopped after a moment, “Don’t let me stop you! Please, _ continue._” His laughter faded, before he made a motion with his hand for Angel Dust to carry on with his seductive flirtatious technique.

The effeminate drag spider blinked before a sly smile crossed his expression.

_ Say no more, Apple Daddy. _

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back over to his boy toy, bringing two hands up and pushing up his chest fluff, exaggerating them into breasts. “Do ya like me better with these tits on display?”

You choke on your drink.

Husk’s ear pivoted towards the sound, and he sends something similar to a pleading look in your direction. If there was one person in this fuckin’ hotel that could understand the discomfort of a persistent presence, it was you. You sip, grimacing as the liquor burns your throat. The aftertaste tasted like a mixture of mint and cinnamon. An odd choice, but you couldn’t complain. 

“Are those even _ real,_ Angel?” 

Said arachnid spins around to face you so quick that it should have been illegal for him not to have tripped on those stilettos, a dramatic gasp falling from his now cherry colored lips. He looked down to his chest fluff and then back at you, and you almost felt _ guilty. _He looked offended. 

“Are you kiddin’ me, toots? I paid good money for ‘em, they betta be real!” He fluffed up his chest in a proud manner, second set of hands on his hips while one of his top ones were on the counter, the other was pointing at you. 

“You ain’t eva gonna have tits as great as _ these _ babies.” 

Taking a once-over at his exaggerated features, you smiled into your drink. That type of lifestyle just wasn’t for you. To each their own, you guessed. You remained quiet. 

With a _ ‘hmph’,_ he escaped from behind the bar and went to do… something. You lost him after he turned the corner. 

Lucifer watched you with a close lipped smile, eyes darting around the room as his wife gushed over some of the decorating Charlie and Vaggie had done, reminiscing over some of the paintings, and the memories associated with them. When you caught his gaze, you stiffened. 

“So, the construction went well?”

Your confusion at first told him all he needed to know.

_ Aw man. _

Of course, he had known all along, but making you uncomfortable and react the way you did made it all the more entertaining. 

You would have commented, but by the look in his eye, you just _ knew _staying silent was the best response you could possibly give. He hummed, turning his attention back towards Husk, the shit eating grin returning to his face. 

“Husk, have you ever been sober?” The Devil inquired teasingly as the bartender popped a cork out of a bottle and began to down it. Husk removed the bottle from his mouth after a moment to respond:

“Hey, it ain’t fuckin’ easy to stay drunk all the time.” He grunted, before looking out over the lobby with a frown. “_Once_. Got real tired, real fast in this place.” 

Lucifer smiled into his drink, and you leaned idly against the counter, drumming your fingers against the glass. You could relate with Husk on a personal level there- you were tired too. 

“That wouldn’t be because spider tits is trying to get into that…” He looked Husk over, “Gnarled fur, now, would it?” Husk didn’t respond, returning the bottle to his mouth and chugging his drink. With a roll of your eyes, you noticed, out of your peripheral vision someone waving you down. 

Charlie. 

Excusing yourself, you slid off of the stool and headed over to her. 

“Hey! The guests will be here soon, so go get a tray and come back. The appetizers _ should _be finished!” She was talking excitedly before you even reached her, but her excitement was contagious, and soon enough you found yourself smiling too. 

You wanted her to succeed in her dreams— she was your friend; you only wanted the best for her. And with free food and drinks, what better way than this prime opportunity to get people interested in living here? She even had found herself _ proud _of Angel. He was rough around the edges and… after finding out about his stash of drugs, she had been disappointed, but it was a weaning process. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. Charlie hadn’t signed up for easy. 

But with you, he was beginning to open up little by little. Nodding lightly, you notice then that Charlie and Vaggie are dressed up as a knockoff version of Thelma and Louise. They were a cute couple, you couldn’t lie. It would be blasphemy to state otherwise. Well, no better time to start than the present. You began to walk towards the kitchen. 

And with it, began to mentally prepare yourself.

At least you felt a bit warm from the liquor.

Before you could reach the door, however, Vaggie, or better known as ‘Louise’, stopped you. You knitted your brows, pausing in your step and rocking on your heels for a moment. 

“I’ve got this hun,” She was hesitant, unsure of how to be _ friendly, _but she wanted to try. Especially with how nice you were to Charlie. You also deserved a break from the Radio Demon. You didn’t ask for any of this. “I’ll grab a tray for you and be right back, no need for you to… Uh, you know, be in closed spaces.” 

You were pleasantly surprised at how thoughtful Vaggie had become towards your predicament with Alastor; nevertheless, the initial surprise made you blink a few times. 

“Are you sure?” 

She gave a single nod. “Stay here.”

You did just that, watching as she turned and disappeared behind the door. You waited a moment, and then another, and then another before the door had swung open again. She held a tray full of all sorts of delicate treats and savory bites; your stomach growled at the sight of them alone. 

Despite not wanting to admit to it, Alastor was actually _ really _ good at cooking and everyone just seemed to fawn over it just as well. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure, for all you knew, he was watching you through his voodoo powers or _ something, _waiting for the moment you snagged a bite and then he would never let you off the hook. 

Vaggie and you watched in a comfortable silence, upbeat music had begun to play through the lobby, as Charlie opened the doors to the public. There were demons of all different forms and sizes, some flooding in from the cold, so many costumes, _ you guessed that it was just how parties worked down here. _With a soft sigh, you followed with your eyes as a few flooded towards the bar. A few headed straight for Lilith, gushing over her like the paparazzi would. 

She didn’t appear as cheerful after that. 

She had become more reserved and careful with her words and who she said them to; it was interesting to watch such the sudden change. You could see the facade of Royalty make its presence known just by how she moved. 

You didn’t blame her. 

You supposed it was because, down here in Hell, even the most powerful of demons had a target on their back.

Suddenly remembering the pistol in your back pocket— despite it only being a prop, it _ looked _legitimate, you gripped it. Despite it not being able to do anything, perhaps other demons wouldn’t be too willing to get close enough by the silhouette of it alone. At the very least, you could hope that would be the outcome. 

You decided to thank Charlie for such a wondrous costume before it got too busy. The blonde woman was greeting guests excitedly at the door, some were rudely brushing her off, some were actually indulging in conversation, while the others just went straight for the goods: _ other demons, drinks, and food. _You let your eyes fall onto the winged feline for a moment; a crowd was eagerly forming around him. 

It might have been the very first time you had actually seen him work. 

“Charlie,” you reached out, tapping her on the shoulder. The two of you were now standing half-way between the kitchen and the front door; and from the liquor that pooled in your belly, you couldn’t help but feel a bit _ warm. _It was a comfortable warmth in the center of your body. 

She turned and beamed at you, practically bouncing. 

“I just wanted to uh, thank you.” You thanked her bashfully. 

“For what? The party? Oh! It was about time the hotel had one. Don’t worry about it! Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Her voice was giddy, her speed-talking only highlighted her enthusiasm and excitement. You nodded, a smile toying on your lips before motioning towards your outfit.

“Yeah, it’s great so far! But I meant, I wanted to thank you for the cos...tume…” you trailed off, eyes narrowing on the door to the kitchen just as Alastor kicked it open; two trays in his hands. He proudly offered his creations to the hotel’s new guests, and you felt annoyance bubble up deep inside you. 

What had you suddenly pissed was not his _ presence, _ but the fact that he was wearing an _ identical outfit to yours. _ You clenched your fists at your sides. He fucking did it again. He didn’t listen to you. Charlie didn’t give you the costume, _ Alastor did. _Which meant he was in your room. Which meant he disregarded your requests again. 

Charlie remained wholly confused. 

“Excuse me,” you pardoned yourself from Charlie. You were going to fucking kill him. 

But first you needed a drink. Maybe ten. 

Tearing your eyes away, you headed over to the bar to notice that Husk is not only drowning himself in alcohol, but also other demons. You tried to contain your anger for the moment, but your pissed off expression still remained prevalent on your features. 

There was a wait, but you _ worked here damn it. _

Pushing through the crowd, you headed behind the bar. Husk offered you a glance to make sure you weren’t Angel Dust, before continuing on with his job. 

“Guess whAT?” You slammed your hands down on the counter, the glasses clattering for a moment. Your words lilted in the end, increasing in volume. Husk didn’t even seem fazed by your sudden change in emotions. 

“Radio Dipshit is being a dipshit?” He replied gruffly.

“_ Yeah _ , and you know what the best part is? I thought _ Charlie _gave me this costume.” You point towards said ‘dipshit’ who was serving others, nearly whacking a demon in the face. You apologized half-heartedly, wincing as they grumbled, took their drink, and turned around. 

Husk looked out over the sea of demons who had suddenly come from fuckin’ _ nowhere _, at the word that there would be free food and drinks. He looked at the Radio Demon and then back to you, raising his brows and clearing his throat. His actions spoke louder than any shitty word of advice he could have offered you in that moment. 

After serving a demon, he took a swig of his own drink. 

Then it began to dawn on you that the pistol might not have been a prop _ at all. _ In your apparent annoyance and anger, you pulled it out, noticing in that moment how Husk’s eyes seemed to _ sober _a bit. “You think he’d be dumb enough to give me a loaded gun?” You ran your fingers down the coolness of the silver engravings that followed the barrel of the gun. 

He hoped not. He also hoped that you weren’t about to shoot a loaded fucking pistol in the middle of a party that was aimed to get more guests for the hotel. 

The thought was irresistible. Your lips curled at the thought, entirely too expectant of the fact that he _ would. _ Bringing your hands up, a few demons noticed and began to clear a path, only making it _ easier _ for you. You lined it up at said bastard who was now chatting it up with Lucifer— _ man, _did they look like a bunch of pals! 

You clicked off the safety, steadied your aim, and squeezed your finger down on the trigger.

_ ‘BANG!’ _

The recoil shocked you more than the fact that it was actually loaded. You were expecting a _ click _that signified it being empty! 

With wide eyes, you dropped the gun to the counter with a clatter, smoke emitting from the muzzle. All the music, all the guests, went silent as they all turned to face you; and no gaze was more thrilled than Alastor’s. 

“That was a good shot!” He called over the crowd, his smile very telling of how impressed he was with you.

For some reason, that let up whatever tension had built in the room. There was a hole in the wall just over his left ear, and you could _ feel _ yourself losing your cool, not at his words per say (because let’s face it, they were infuriating on their own) but the fact that you _ missed. _

Lucifer sighed dreamily, a goofy grin adorning his lips as he shot Alastor a lidded, amused glance. “I remember those days with my sweet Lilith.” Alastor nodded wistfully as if the two of them were sharing a bro-to-bro moment. 

You weren’t sure what pissed you off more. The fact that he didn’t even seem fazed, or the fact that he had actually given you a loaded gun. After the guests were gone, you were going to sit him down _ again _, but this time with your new weapon.

Husk wasn’t too sure about the pissed off look in your eyes. He ultimately decided to keep an extra eye on you in order to make sure you were level-headed enough. You did not need to be drunk _ and _have a loaded weapon. 

“I’m going to take this now.” His gruff voice pulled your attention to him as he confiscated the pistol, putting it under the bar counter. “You can have it back after the party.” You blinked, staring up at him with an annoyed expression. Alastor was so fucking dumb. 

“Whatever.” You huffed out with a sigh, “I need to get another tray anyway.” 

The rest of the party went smoothly enough; the fact that you had blown a hole in the wall had been forgotten almost immediately. It just went to show how unpredictable and dangerous demons really were down here, with how they didn’t seem to _ care. _Handing out appetizers, you busied your mind and hands with your job, lest you spiral down a rabbit hole of anger and emotion. 

No. There was a time and place for that. 

Needless to say, after the last tray had been given out, you returned to the bar and began to drink your life away. Now that you didn’t have the gun, Husk was more than happy to serve you different alcoholic beverages. The later it got in the night, the more drunk you became, until you were a dizzy, giggly mess. 

Some demons were drunk off their asses and passed out on the floor. Others were grinding, others were mingling, but there were now less demons by a mile. A lot had already left. You, however, were only on your _ fourth _drink and in your already intoxicated mind, you had the brilliant idea of drinking even more. 

Husk found you an endearing drunk, you were funny. A lot of the time, down here in the bowels of Hell— drunks often varied between sad or hopeless, sometimes even angry. You, however, looked happy. When Husk showed you a simple magic card trick, you nearly lost your mind.

The moment he noticed a particular demon approaching, his placed his cards down and cleared his throat. 

There was confusion in your eyes at first before you felt a muted fuzziness dance across your skin and, having an inkling of what exactly was happening, you waited until a clawed hand reached over you to grab at your drink to elbow him in the gut. He was not taking your drink. 

“Darling, I think you’ve had enough.”

Yeah, you had enough. Of him.

“Fuck you, Al_ ass _ tor. _ Fuck off.” _You grab at a second glass, and motioned for Husk to fill it up. Alastor glared at him, watching as Husk gave in anyway, perhaps just to spite him. The static grew in intensity, but to you, it only felt like a fuzzy kitten. You swung back the drink and laughed. The room was spinning.

Was he still behind you? You turned around.

Oh, too fast. You were dizzy now. 

“Oh dear.” He tutted, catching your arm so you didn’t fall off the stool. “I think it’s time you went to bed.” At this point, you were just making a fool of yourself.

_ “You’re not my dad.” _

“Luckily, I am no one’s father, but I insist.” 

“I think it’s high time you left her the fuck alone,” Husk cut in.

You snickered to yourself at Husk’s behavior. He was such an angry little kitty. The clawed hand resting on your shoulder shattered whatever drunken happiness you had found in that moment. 

He was touching you. He was trying to take your drink away and he was _ touching you. _

You stiffened, and Husk watched as your face contorted angrily. 

Husk remained close to you, as he had been for a good portion of the evening, which was why he was now concerned over the fact that your hands were reaching over the counter and towards the last place he knew you had seen him place your weapon. 

He knew what you were reaching for, and was battling with himself as to whether or not he should let you have the gun back. 

But that decision was taken from him as miraculously, you were now drunkenly pointing the pistol directly at Alastor’s forehead, a dark streak in your gaze. Twisting around in your seat, you slide off of it and, in doing so, was forced to lower it to his chest. 

In any case, you aimed it towards his cold dead heart.

Alastor’s grin brightened immensely. “You do look quite dashing this evening, if I say so myself.” He stepped closer, walking into the gun and pressing it deeper into his chest. “However, you should really put that down before you hurt _ yourself _, my dear.” He leaned down and brought up a claw to pinch at your cheek.

His words pissed you off. _ He _ pissed you off. You pushed the gun into his chest uncomfortably. You were seething. You didn’t have a filter anymore. Your brain sobered a fraction. “ _ Go.” _ You didn’t spare a glance to Husk, who in turn was ignoring the guests to watch you, exceedingly wary of the gun poised at the Radio Demon’s chest. 

You weren’t planning on using it again, but you would if you had to.

You lowered the pistol down for a moment, but did not put it away, after noticing he wasn’t going to move, you frowned and brushed past him. “Lets _ go _.” 

Alastor raised a brow, but followed out of mere curiosity. 

You had yet to put the gun away, keeping it out in case of the need of suddenly rising to use it. There was a surprising thrill in all of this. You really were _ so _ entertaining.

He never would have guessed you would turn the weapon on _ him _. 

You navigated through the crowd. You could feel the fuzzy static lapping at your skin, thus you didn’t need to turn around to make sure he was following you. You walked to your room, silent the entire way. Opening the door, you motioned angrily for him to _ go in. _

He followed your silent instruction, curiosity running rampant through his body at such a delectable turn of events. However, he couldn’t exactly complain. At least you were no longer drunk among the rabble.

You slammed the door behind you. “_Sit.” _You pointed to your bed with a frown, disbelief in the fact that you were doing this _again_. “And explain what the fuck this is.” You motioned to your outfit. 

“...That would be a hunting uniform from nineteen-twenty-three.” He completely averted the reasoning behind the question in a manner that he signified he either didn’t understand the question or he was too entertained by the notion of having you chase after him for answers. 

He never understood. 

You were going to riot. 

Balling your fist at your side, the other clenching around the pistol, you let out an exasperated sigh. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how much you hated him in this moment, wanted to throw him off a ten story building. You never wanted to see him again, or his stupid smile. 

But you were wary.

You didn’t have the energy to yell anymore. Despite him sitting on your bedside, you moved a few paces next to him and crawled on top of it. If you were going to talk, you were going to do it in the comfort of your own bed. You refused to be afraid in your own space. 

It was _ your bed, _he could move if he wanted to.

Nevertheless, you still pointed the pistol at him. You didn’t speak for a long moment. It wasn’t the problem of what to say, but where to _ begin. _

If you needed to be the adult in the situation, you would.

“Alastor, if you don’t start explaining what all this is about, I’m gonna…” Your brain lagged. “Shoot you.” You wouldn’t miss this time, either. Yes, you were being very mature by threatening to shoot him. 

“Now, who’s flirting with whom?” The look he gave you made you pull back the safety with an audible _ click. _

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “I thought I was rather straightforward with my intentions.” Bullshit. He was enigmatic and mysterious. You narrowed your eyes as he continued on. “Though, I suppose that things _ may _ have changed since courtship in my day.” He paused for a moment, attempting to figure out the best way to explain it to you. 

_ Courtship? _

“You see darling, I had been led to believe that you would _ enjoy _ small tokens of my affection, such as the cookies! Why, I had been so proud that you took the plate with you! And then replacing your poor excuse of a broom, _ oh _, the other had become so inefficient for its purpose!” He spoke with his hands excitedly, as he always did. 

His eyes never left you face. “Though I will admit, I had never intended to replace _ all _ of your cleaning supplies, but you’re such a clever little dame, you saw through my little white lie immediately! Though, Niffty was so happy with everything, so I _ suppose _ I’ll have to forgive you.”

It was an overload of information. You had to blink, your intoxicated brain trying desperately to keep up. You lost him about half way. “I fed the cookies to the pig.” You blurted out, monotone. It was the only thing you could think of in that moment. 

“The _ swine _ ? But I made them for _ you _, were they not satisfactory?”

You leaned your head back against the headboard with an audible groan and a _ thwump. _ He was such a fucking… what was that word again? Whatever. Laying down the weapon on your legs, you grabbed a pillow, brought it to your face, and _ screamed. _

He kept his hands to himself, though his fingers twitched with the urge to grab at your shoulder. “I hardly think the screaming is necessary, my dear.” He wasn’t even attempting to frighten you.

He hardly understood why you were being so _ dramatic _. 

To give his hands something to do lest he give into his desires right then and there, he fixed his hair and monocle, despite neither of them needing such attention.

You let the pillow stay on your face for a minute, wanting to suffocate yourself before finally bringing it back down. 

“...Are you really that proud,” you paused, your intoxicated brain trying desperately to figure out what to continue with, “That you don’t know everything you put me through? What you put… what you put _ everyone _ through?” you spat out, leaning forward, nose crinkling.

“But that’s what you get off on, huh? Right, _ right? _ You-” You laughed humorlessly, your cheeks flushing with emotion. You were so _ tired. _

Tired of this, tired of him, tired of everything he had put you through since day one. 

_ “— _And, and you know what I finally discovered about you today, Alastor?” You clenched the pillow in your arms, hoping it would give you comfort.

“What would that be?” He hummed.

“Selfish. You’re _ selfish _.” 

“And this comes as a surprise to you?”

“I thought it would come as a surprise to _ you.” _

“I know what I want, perhaps I don’t always know _ why _, but nothing will stop me from taking what’s mine.”

You scrunched your face up. 

“And what _ do _ you want, huh? What could you possibly want after taking _ everything _?” 

“I suppose I’ll just have to spell it out for you then.” He turned his full attention to you; and if what he had said that the previous night had felt like a sucker punch, this was an elbow to the throat. He folded his hands upon his lap patiently.

And then cleared his throat.

“Darling, I want you. _ All _ of you, every part that you’ve hidden and have yet to find, to the muscles and ligaments that adorn your body, down to the marrow in your bones.” His smile was heavy with an emotion you had yet to see.

You were going to be sick.

_ He wanted you. _

_ He was obsessed with you. _

You were speechless, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.

“..._ Don’t _.” You whispered, a singular rivulet finally spilling from your eye and down your cheek, “Say that. Don’t say that.” You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to know. You should have stayed silent. You should have just continued on with the banter, you should have stayed at the damn bar. 

Your heart and stomach switched places. You gripped the pillow, feeling sickness run up your throat.

Jumping off of the bed, you nearly tripped over yourself in your attempt to sprint over to the bathroom in time. Bursting through the door, you fell to your knees and immediately began to empty your stomach, all the alcohol and bad feelings escaped you. You gripped the seat in your hands. 

When you felt static dancing across your skin, felt eyes dancing across your form, you felt even sicker. 

Then, a cool hand was gathering at your hair, pulling it upwards in an action that was so uncharacteristic of the man that literally licked your hand in the _ closet when you bled, _that you nearly collapsed right then and there. His second clawed hand calmly rubbed circles over your shoulders, cooling your heated skin, gooseflesh was already forming from his presence alone.

Uncomfortable. You were very, uncomfortable.

When you felt his hands on you, you gripped the seat even harder, the vile taste in your mouth reminiscent of the creature that was holding your hair back, attempting to comfort you. You gagged, but nothing came up; and with tears streaming down your face, you panted; lips parted as your breath came out in staggered sobs. 

He was doing something you would consider nice, but just the fact that it was _ him _ touching you as if he did nothing wrong... made you feel angry. He had done everything but taken you seriously, and now he was trying to make up for it with some bullshit excuse like _ courtship _ . He was violating your space _ again. _ You were angry at _ yourself _for letting it get this far. 

You knew you couldn’t have done anything to change what was already set in motion. 

Alastor was already helping you up, his grip was firm as he sat you on the lip of the tub. Everything was quiet save for the static that clung to him, that and your shaky breaths.

He took it all in stride though, grabbing a spare cloth from your sink and soaking it in tepid water. He even started to gently wipe away whatever mess had splashed onto your face. 

“You shouldn’t drink so much.”

He was chastising you _ now? _You couldn’t believe his audacity. You didn’t respond, head swimming from his arrogance. The drinking was the least of your worries, you wanted to dissociate from yourself, you wanted to go far away and never return. You wanted him to feel how you felt, the stress he put on you.

“Would you feel better if I handed you the gun to point at me?” He could feel your discomfort. He wanted to alleviate it. 

“I don’t… I don’t want the gun.” You whispered out, shakily, averting your eyes to your shirt. You made a face. Well, at least you were beginning to sober up, at least, now with the rest of the alcohol out of your system. He was trying to help you, he was trying to fucking woo you like you were some princess and he was a white knight. This was bullshit. You needed to stop this. 

“...Alastor.”

He hummed in answer, letting you know he was indeed listening to you.

“I _ don’t _ like you.” Plain and simple.

“I’m aware.” He murmured, and for that phrase, you nearly let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he would just… give up now. 

“In fact, that’s what I’m trying to change.” He started brushing your hair back out of your face. Your shoulders slumped in defeat. Even being angry was exhausting.

Your eye twitched. “I don’t want you to change it.” You response was clipped.

“Here I thought out of everyone in the hotel, you might be the one to understand second chances… Regardless, it’s time for bed.” He snapped his fingers, changing you into your coziest set of pajamas.

You nearly screamed at the sensation of fabric being changed on your body unwillingly. 

You were exhausted, mentally, physically, and everything in between. You would have had a smartass comment to quip back at him if you had the energy, but you just… didn’t. Ignoring his presence, you picked yourself up and turned on the sink. 

You watched the water spout out before running. And then your eyes focused on the Col_ hate _ toothpaste; putting it on a toothbrush, you brushed your teeth. And then, upon cleaning out your mouth from the disgusting taste that lingered in it, you relied on a defense mechanism.

Humor.

Grabbing the toothpaste, you turned around and held it to him. “...Happy New Years.” Your weren't laughing, though. Maybe you would have if you weren’t so gosh darn exhausted. You were funny— just in all the wrong moments.

He released an amused breath, and you felt your shoulders relax just slightly. At least your comment didn’t get hands around your neck this time. You blinked down to the tube, about to pull it away when his claws wrapped around it after a moment of deep contemplation.

He pulled it from your grip, his grin forming into an impish, lipped one. Whenever he had that expression, it didn’t mean anything _ good. _He was up to something.

You squinted at him silently, about to walk out and kick him out of your room so you could _ sleep. _You wanted to get distance between the two of you, the closed, confined space caused a feeling of nervousness to creep up your spine. 

At his next words, however, time shifted and you felt the world shatter around you. 

“...I believe a kiss is customary?” His arms were now behind his back and, as he stepped closer to you, his eyes were focused on your _ mouth _. 

You snapped your attention to his eyes, which were lidded and laced with mischievousness. Your own were wide and wild. “W-_ what?” _You choked out. He was like a kid who was desperately trying to get a cookie that he couldn’t have until after dinner, throwing a tantrum when he didn’t get what he wanted. 

“No, no, _ no. _ ” you shook your head vehemently. “Al, _ no.” _The speech was so frantic, that you had called him unintentionally, by his nickname. It was something that was barely noticed. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want him to kiss you. You wanted him to let you go to bed, to return back to his room and leave you alone. 

You just wanted him to leave you alone, dammit. 

He was so undeniably _ creepy, _the shadows caressing his form in a way that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. An intimidating creature that had you right where he wanted. Your confidence had gotten up and dipped out the moment he took another step forward, 

You backed up with a single step before hitting the edge of the sink. When he leaned down, you could feel his breath fan across your face, cooling it from the warmth that had begun to spread. At the point of him getting close enough to you that you had a hard time focusing, you tilted your head the other way. 

Your expression fell, the proximity made you tense up. _ He wouldn’t. _Why did you even fucking say anything? You and your loud ass mouth. You were an idiot. 

He hummed and, upon bringing an arm from behind his back, let a single claw drag just beneath your chin, causing your head to tilt back towards him. Alarms were going off in your mind. Why couldn’t you move? Why were you still standing there? Why weren’t you pushing him away? 

You found yourself staggered in the proximity he held to you, you were a deer in headlights, your hands grasped the edge of the sink desperately, trying to find purchase in this slippery situation. 

Your heart picked up in pace, something you were entirely too sure he could hear. It was all _ you _could hear. 

His already lidded eyes closed, and in an act that both staggered and rendered you unable to do anything but remain still as a statue, he closed what little distance there was and connected his lips to yours, brushing his nose against yours. 

His monocle felt cool against your heated, distraught face. Your eyebrows were knitted, and instinctively, because you couldn’t focus on _ anything _else, you found yourself closing your eyes too.

You wanted to imagine you were being kissed by someone that wasn’t _ him _. You wanted to be somewhere other than here. With someone else. Far, far away. 

His lips were firm, but chapped; cold enough to elicit a chill through your bones; nevertheless, they were pressed softly against your own.

His thumb trailed across your cheek in a comforting motion, or what could be considered such, his actions obvious in the fact that this was something so utterly foreign, new, and _ exciting _to him. 

You didn’t kiss him back, but he didn’t seem to mind; in what felt like an eternity but truly was only a few moments, you had retreated to the deepest recesses of your mind.

When he pulled away, you could _ taste _ a teasing hint of the bitters he had consumed earlier that night. You could feel the pressure of his lips on yours still; the promise of a tenderness that you didn’t know he possessed or could even conjure.

His hair tickled your forehead, and upon making a face, some sort of sign that you were _ okay, _his infamous grin returned to his face. Your chest heaved, eyes trained on the red coloration of his matching suit as you tried to process everything that had just happened.

Your face was just as red.

_ “Happy New Years.” _ It was a mumble, his breath ghosting across your ear. And then, with a blink of your own eyes, he was gone.

He took the toothpaste with him.


	31. Evaluating The Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lmao surprise. Two chapters. Enjoy.

You had gone to bed soon after, too exhausted and intoxicated to do anything _ other _than that. Your dreams were short and sweet, the only real escape you had from the eternal hellscape you currently resided in. Wistful ones, soft and comforting, your mind made scenarios that you so desperately needed. Trapped in the memories of being free from the clutches of your daily life. 

In the land of your enchantment, you could be whatever you wanted to be. You could see, feel, act in whatever manner you deemed fit. Your dreams were generally feelings_ . _Sounds that reminded you of a simpler time. Scents you found pleasant. You could dream of things that didn’t make sense in reality but did in the dream. 

You could make a fool of yourself with no actual repercussions, something you could rarely experience outside of your mind. You could go through scenarios that would never happen, ones that _ could _happen, one that you had yet to figure out. You could figure yourself out. 

You could _ heal._

Your subconscious could try to piece together the things you could never fathom, or the ones you desperately tried to understand, but just couldn’t reach. The puzzle pieces of your life sometimes seemed to come together in a hurricane of confusion, leaving you to ponder the scenery of your dreams that stood for such mental anguish. 

You could smell the flowers, thick bushels of wisteria and lavender, you could stare at the _ blue _skies, tracing the shapes in the clouds with your fingertips, you could stare out into the rolling waves of the equally blue sea. Blue. Water. Endless depths. Darkness. Struggling.

Drowning. 

You sat up in a cold sweat, your hands desperately gripping at the blankets as you panted. The painful flew of your hands had you instinctually pulling them closer to you. Your shirt clung to your body uncomfortably, hair sticking to your skin. Upon snapping out of your torpor, you glanced around the room, bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself. It was then you were greeted with a wicked headache that put your past one to shame. Hangovers were the worst. 

“Oh, no…” you groaned, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing away your sleepiness, attempting to alleviate the discomfort your headache caused by rubbing your temples. Upon your palm brushing against the your bottom lip, you stiffened. The memories of the previous night suddenly collided with your hungover mind. 

_ He had kissed you. _

You brought a hand down and traced your fingers across your lower lip, and with it, came your conflicting thoughts. 

You hadn’t wanted it, but you had given in. 

No, you didn’t give in, you told him no but he did it anyway, you dumbass. 

Okay, then why didn’t you push him away?

He wouldn’t have moved anyway, all he does is take!

Was it really that bad? He could have taken _ anything _ from you, least of all a kiss.

Are you insane? We’re talking about the demon who literally licked your hand in a closet. We’re talking about someone who has been up your ass since day one.

You twisted your face up, running your other hand through your hair. Why were you even considering that it had been _ okay? _ It hadn’t been. You had said no. No meant _ no _. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard it. You had said it multiple times. Before you found yourself reeling into your thoughts again, a heavy sigh fell from you. 

Peeling the covers off of your body, you grimaced as you felt the coolness of the floor beneath your feet. 

Walking to the bathroom, you washed your face to be free from the mascara and makeup that had smeared across your face from a night of twisting and turning. You looked like a hot mess, emphasis on the mess. 

The feeling of cold water woke you up better than anything you could have asked for. In fact, you kept splashing your face as if to let it wash away his actions. You were out of luck, for even if his touch was washed away, you could never wash _ him _away.

Perhaps, even despite having the most wicked hangover ever, it was time to drown your emotions _ again _. Stupid hangover be damned, you were ready to maim these thoughts you were having, what better way than to drown more brain cells. You suddenly had an understanding why Husk did it all the time. It was a lot easier than to… face them. Emotions were already a bitch and a half, you didn’t need them to be fighting with each other now. You had a feeling you would have to face them anyway, though. Emotions were stubborn like that. 

You could try at least, and what better way to try than with the resident drunk feline? 

For once in your life, you didn’t run into Charlie in the lobby. Instead, you had found her fixing a painting just down the hallway.

“Hi Charlie,” you greeted softly; she nearly dropped the painting and you stiffened, watching with wide eyes as she caught it and held it up to place it back on the hook.

“Good morning!” She replied chipperly, excitedly. You winced at her volume, and she offered an apologetic smile. “How did you sleep?” An inquiry, softer this time. Quieter. You were relieved that you hadn’t run into Angel instead— you knew he would have just gotten louder to piss you off. What were friends for?

“Um, okay. Thanks for asking.” You brought your hand down to your side, “I was meaning to ask you—“ 

She gasped, placing a hand on your shoulder and whisking past you. “Hold that thought! Can you believe this? Look at what these demons did to my poor paintings!”

You closed your mouth, turning around to see, on the painting, a red insult painted on two of the Royal Family’s paintings. ‘Royal pricks!’ in bold lettering was scrawled over Lucifer’s forehead. You blinked, trying to hold back a smile. “...They’re not very creative with insults.” You observed. “Do you need help?” A frown graced your lips as you took a step closer. Charlie looked exasperated, trying to wipe away the red paint.

“No no, it’s fine. I just can’t believe this!” She sighed, taking the two paintings down and stacking them on each other. “I’m sure there has to be a way to get the paint off of it.”

You wanted to tell her that getting unwanted paint off of a… painting wasn’t something that could be done, at least not easily, and not without a specialist. Not wanting to crush her dreams, you decided to keep silent, watching.

“Anyways, what were you saying?” She placed the painting under her arm before turning to look at you. 

Oh.

“_Well, _ I was wondering if I could have the day off.” You watched her expression twist into confusion at first, realization, and then worry. You had been working your ass off to pay her back, and she was well aware of that fact. She appreciated the fact that you came to ask, though. Demons often just… did it without asking. She _ also _wanted to ask for a reason why, but she knew you needed your space. She always meant it when she said you had been through a lot in your short stay down here. Many demons were undeserving of their sentence, but she just knew you were one of the ones that were very, undeserving.

It made her want to pry into your life to find out what the most recent upset you had was. The thought of her loving girlfriend reminded her though, she needed to let you do things on your own so you would be able to find your fitting. Besides,

If you wanted to tell her, you would. 

“Sure. Just don’t get into any trouble.” 

Too bad you were already planning on it. Drinking in private was one thing. In _ public, _however. Well, needless to say, you twisted your face into a small smile, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding the entire time. Your shoulders slumped as you relaxed. 

It was Charlie, of _ course _she would be willing to listen to reason. 

Said demon turned around then after wishing for you to have fun, eager to hunt down Alastor so he could _ manually _take down the decorations himself. She had a feeling he was the reason behind all of this, for it was so uncharacteristic for you to ask for a break. When you did, it was for a reason. 

Tapping her nails on her board, she disappeared down a corner.

Entering the lobby, you immediately b-lined it towards the winged feline. “Can we go out somewhere today?” You leaned over the counter, your words so fast that he blinked down at you, leaning away just slightly. Suspicion made him narrow his eyes at you, but once you gave him that pleading look, he felt whatever bullshit excuse he had in his back pocket for situations like these, disappear.

“Where?” He muttered. 

“The bar.” You replied deadpan.

He nearly choked. You slid off of the counter and tossed him a _ look _that made him pause in his smart ass reply of how you were already at a bar. Grabbing the mittens that he had hoarded underneath the counter, he grumbled under his breath and followed you out of the hotel. 

You were eager to get out of there before _ he _woke up. 

You had grabbed Angel’s coat, and nearly pulled the hanger down with you in your effort to run out of the lobby.

“Jesus fuck, slow down kid.” Husk finally spoke up to you as he actually quickened his pace to keep up with you. You wanted to be far away from the hotel. From _ him. _The further away you were, the better. You didn’t even notice the freezing cold outside; your skin burning at the memories of the ghost of his lips on yours. 

Anxiously, you tied the long sleeves around your waist. You didn’t want Angel to have a reason to be pissed at you, but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Not in a good way, of course. In a way that ignited your flight or fight response. _ Adrenaline _. That’s the bitch. 

You kicked a snowball down the concrete, said snowball broke apart at the sudden force of your shoe. 

“So uh,” Husk gruffly cleared his throat. He noticed your flustered, sour expression. He suspected something had happened, because neither you _ nor _Alastor had returned to the lobby after the party. From your expression, he tied the knot and found himself unsure how to approach such a sensitive conversation. 

“...Do you want to tell me about it?” 

No, you didn’t. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to _ think _about it, but here you were, spilling your heart to the one individual you had grown to trust and rely on for such a thing. You had grown comforted by the fact that he would probably not remember the conversation anyway after a few drinks. 

“He kissed me.” You muttered. Husk didn’t respond, looking at his feet as he strolled next to you. Thankfully, you had slowed your pace when you got far enough. 

“He kissed me after I told him no. He told me about how nothing would stop him from taking what was his. He-” you scrunched up your face, “He told me what he wanted when I asked.” You looked to Husk then, silently asking what he thought it was. 

He had an inkling suspicion, but he wouldn’t talk. You seemed to be in quite a… thing_. An emotional thing. _

You didn’t even want to continue, but you found yourself doing it anyway. It was a dam that was broken, and you were venting. He suddenly understood why you wanted to get drunk. It was true, he wasn’t the best role model, but he wasn’t _ trying _to be. You had just adopted the thought that he was the good guy in all of this. 

Husk had done shitty things that he was both proud and insecure of.

But even him, the most antisocial of the group, had been placed unsuspectingly into your life without even meaning to. He listened to your words, an ear craned in your direction the entire time as he began to lead you on a path you had never been on before. You didn’t even notice. 

In fact, you were so in your own mind that if he hadn’t grabbed your sleeve, you would have walked straight into traffic. 

When you finally came to your senses, you were standing in front of an apartment complex. Before you could question it, he had already started explaining. 

“I’m a pretty fuckin’ good gambler when times call for it.” He buzzed in on the radio com and you watched as the door clicked open. “Won the place off a shitty landlord.” Just as you were about to inquire if he was talking about the _ entire thing _or just a room, he walked in, and you followed. You had been thinking about lazing your day away in a bar, but Husk’s place was probably just as good if not better. You were careful not to step on his tail on your way up. 

Impishly, you wondered what would happen if you did. 

Eventually he lead you up a stairwell and towards a room at the corner of a hallway. There was a lock, and he reached above the door, feeling for a key. When he unlocked it and stepped in, you were mildly surprised by all the blankets in the small space. 

There was a couch, a built in window-side bed that you were sure the purpose of which was sunbathing, a rundown fridge, a television, a pool table, and a dining table. 

Most importantly however, it smelled like old cigars. Earthy figs and a waft of vanilla hit your nose. You would have thought it would have smelt like old smoke instead, but this was rather pleasant. 

The floor was sticky with spilt booze that had never been cleaned up. Your shoes made sounds when walking over it. It was a gamblers den, no doubt. With a further brief look around, you sat down on the sofa. You were _ impressed _that Husk had a legitimate place of his own. The floor could have used a good mopping, but all in all, it wasn’t half bad. 

Though, you supposed he had to have had a place to stay _ before _the hotel. You didn’t blame him for dealing with the bullshit just to stay there. It was a lot better than here. Charlie’s generosity made sure of that. There weren’t many financial worries over at the hotel, just social ones. Strolling over to the fridge, he popped it open and took out a bottle of cheap booze, and then another. 

He tossed it to you and you just barely caught it. 

You popped open the lid, not even caring what type of liquor it was at that point, and took a long swing out of it. Your headache eased with the promise of the fuzzy warmth that the alcohol brought you, and upon bringing it from your lips, you winced at how it burned your throat. 

Husk took a seat on the other side of the couch, fondling around for the remote. Once he found it, he clicked it on. Immediately, you were greeted with a random channel that didn’t necessarily interest you, but you watched it out of a mixture of boredom and desire to fill your mind so you didn’t spiral down into a pit of frustration. 

About two hours and one half bottle in for you, Husk began to show you a card trick. 

Your already drunk mind tried to piece things together despite him already having shown you it before. To you, it could have very well been a new trick. He found you amusing, and he couldn’t help the smugness that swelled in his chest whenever you asked how he did that. 

“A magician never… Ah fuck, how does it go again?” 

You shrugged. Maybe if he had asked you when you were sober you would have known.

“Fuck it. Whatever.”

Husk, despite being _ four _ bottles in, didn’t even feel buzzed at this point. He spent the rest of the afternoon teaching you how to do a singular card trick. With your intoxicated mind, you couldn’t even believe it when you actually managed it. You got surprised at _ yourself. _

You had been able to spend your day without worry, without stress, and most importantly, without Alastor breathing down your neck. You hadn’t really understood the importance of this time you spent with the grumpy drunk, but you were grateful for the reprieve he had given you.

When the red skies had began to shroud into the shadows, the two of you managed to stumble back towards the hotel. In retrospect, you never would have expected to have Husk let you lean on him as you walked. You were a talker, no doubt, you ran your mouth about things that didn’t make sense to the feline, but he knew it made sense to you, so he nodded along.

He had been around drunkards ever since he was young— you were lucky to be a more laid back type. He did notice, however, that you had gotten a lot quieter the closer the silhouette of the hotel got. He frowned. He hated how much Alastor was a thorn in your side, he was aware that you didn’t deserve any of the shit he threw your way. 

You had potential. He didn’t know what kind of potential, because he was just a fucking drunk, what did he know, but it was _ some kind. _

You nearly tripped up the stairs once you reached them, but you managed to grab the railing before you did. When you opened the door, and stumbled in, you were greeted by a loud voice. 

“_ There’s _ my damn jacket!” Angel stalked towards you, pig in hands. Originally, he had been annoyed that you hadn’t asked, but upon seeing that you weren’t walking straight and Husk was trailing behind you, he paused with a quirked eyebrow.

“Are ya _ drunk?” _

When you nodded slowly, he burst into a smile. 

“Holy shit toots! I didn’t know you had it in ya!” He laughed, ultimately waiting for you to unravel yourself from the fluffy coat. You did at the pace of the snail, not even bothering to give it a second glance when it fell to the floor. It wasn’t your problem anymore. 

Before you could even walk a few paces away, the kitchen door swung open, and with the last person you ever wanted to see spotting you, you immediately felt your anger trickle in. 

You noticed that his claws twitched at his sides, the fuzziness of his static increased dramatically. 

_ Show off. _ Well, good for him. You didn’t care. 

“Darling, that _ cat_,” he stared down Husk who was watching the two of you like a hawk. He tossed Alastor a middle finger. “Is a bad influence on you.” He spoke in a strained tone, clipped and short. 

At your side at once, he pulled you to his own, pressing you flush against himself as you attempted to pull away from him, but with your disorientation, it was a lot more difficult. He didn’t let you go, instead, he held you _ tighter_. 

You were drunk, yes, very, _ very _ drunk. Your eyes weren’t even blinking in a synchronized manner. 

“‘M drunk… ‘cause of you!” You struggled against him sounding very huffy as you pressed your hand to his suit jacket, trying to push yourself away. 

Charlie had come out of a spare room to see what all the ruckus was about, and upon finding out that you were drunk again, _ drunker than you had ever been, _which was extremely uncharacteristic of you, she made her way towards the two of you. She stepped in front of you and Alastor, staring at him expectantly.

There would be no drama in her lobby, not anymore at least. Not while she was present. No, not again. 

He unraveled his arms from you with a roll of his eyes, watching as you stumbled forth into Charlie’s arms. 

“Okayyy, it’s time for you to go to bed now!” Her tone was light as you curled into her side. She didn’t care anymore about not babying you— you were as close to a little sister as she would ever get. You were her _ friend. _

You couldn’t help but feel annoyed about how everyone kept telling you what and what not to do. You were so exhausted of being _ stepped _on. Of being treated like a child. No one took you seriously, and you were not in the state of mind to accept this type of treatment. 

“‘M fine, Charlie. He’s—“ you bring an arm up and point towards Alastor. “_He’s _the one… the one that—” you were frustrated for not being able to think straight. Whatever cheap liquor Husk had given you must not have been cheap at all. 

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had made it himself. 

“He’s the one you should watch out for?” Vaggie strolled in, coming to stand next to Charlie, finishing your statement questionably. 

“Yeah, _ that.” _You huffed.

Angel, who had been talking with Husk— Husk even replied a few times! Progress! Though, they were short and clipped, he wasn’t picky—strolled over, absent from the action that he absolutely wanted to be in on. Because well, _ drama. _ That shit was _ always good. _

“So ah, what’s with the crowd?” He slid next to you, a few paces away. He held ‘Nugs to his fluffed up chest. 

“Al’ster kissed me, and… and I said _ NO_, DAMMIT!” You let everyone know that by staring him dead in the eyes, that you were very pissed, very tired, and very _ over it. _

Everyone, even Fat Nuggets, turned to look at him with varying degrees of awe and disappointment.

Alastor’s grin had grown to a point that his _ gums _ were visible; black as tar, just like his cold, dead heart. The static in the room had gotten to a point where you were able to decipher it from ‘fuzziness’ to actual static in your deeply intoxicated mind. You could _ feel _it. 

Good. You hoped he was as pissed as you were. Bastard.

“You what now?” Charlie smiled, but you were sure that she was actually just baring her teeth at him like an angry bear. An angry _ momma _ bear. That’s what she reminded you of in that moment— _ an angry momma bear. _

Charlie had put up with a lot when it came to Alastor and his.... Unusual attraction towards you. She wanted to think that he would man up and take the rejection you had thrown at him so many times. She had been wrong, but this was something she would not tolerate under her roof. This was supposed to be a safe place for her guests. This was supposed to be a safe place for her _ friend _.

Vaggie noticed and placed a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, offering her support and her comfort silently so as not to detract from the moment at hand.. She narrowed her eyes at Alastor; _ now _she had a solid reason to dislike him. 

“It’s _ customary _ for New Years.” His tone was clipped as he leered down at the _ princess. _ He didn’t owe these people a thing, let alone an explanation. 

“Alastor, she said _ no.” _Charlie shot back. 

You watched in seething silence as his claws twitched at his sides. You couldn't bring yourself to care about his creepy-ass expression. You were drunk. You were angry. You were _tired._

“I tell ‘im no all the time,” you pull Charlie’s arms off of you, and you were, again, the center of attention. You didn’t like the confined space, and you separated yourself from the small gathering, despite them all appearing to be on your side. 

Despite that, you continued on. “As if… as if _ that _ stops him. He licked my hand, he has his… his _ shadow _follow me around, he hid in my closet.” You paused, your face scrunching up in frustration and absolute pissed off fury as you thought of what else he did that was ridiculous.

“Put a fuckin’ beating _ heart _in the kitchen.” Husk spoke up then, and you turned to look at him, nodding. 

Your attention fell to the group again. 

“He put a beating heart in the kitchen!” You repeated, and much to your displeasure, it still sounded just as fucked up as the first time you said it.

You had thrown your hands in the air in exasperation_. _

“I-I’m tired of all of this. You guys KNOW he's a creep, you know he’s never stopped. You-you think he’s _ ever _ gonna stop? When? _ When I’m dead?” _You laughed humorlessly, leaning against a wall for support. The cool wall felt good on your back, you hadn’t even noticed you were too warm. When you turned to face them all, they all looked concerned except for Alastor, who remained idle. 

He _ was _ watching you, though. You narrowed your eyes. 

You could feel the anger thrum through your veins, the alcohol sparking it even more. 

You thought it was all so funny that _ now _ they chose to be worried. You had told them. You had told _ everyone. _ Angel, Vaggie, Charlie, Husk, hell, even Fat Nuggets and Alastor’s own damn shadow. But no, _ now _they wanted to separate you both. 

They wanted to separate you when it was too late, when you were already in too deep. Now even your own head was wondering if you actually wanted all this attention.

You didn’t have a filter anymore. 

“Would you all be so concerned if I told you he _raped_ me? Would you be shocked? Would you even care?” Your laughter began to turn manic, unhinged, unravelling from the stress, from _everything. _You could feel white sparks coming off of your skin from the release of emotion you had bottled up for so very long. 

“LEAVE ME _ ALONE, _ that’s _ all _ I asked!” You were now directing your anger to the one person that actually deserved it. Tears began to spill down your cheeks in large rivulets. You looked like a mess, you _ felt _ like a mess, and it began to make a few of the inhabitants wary. 

All of what you had been holding back, from waking up in the bowels of Hell, being the recipient of harassment, and trying to remember your human life, came forward. It was a mash-up, an amalgam of all the wretched emotions you had been feeling down here and hadn’t worked through. Even the ones you were sure you never would be able to. 

It resulted in a pained, tumultuous, sorrowful yell that shook the other demons to their core as it reached their ears. It sounded otherworldly. 

“_Why are you_ _doing this to me!?” _

Whatever they were expecting to happen, it definitely wasn’t your bodily form to change. 

You felt your teeth sharpen, nicking at your lips, turning them bloody from how sharp they were. You were now _ beyond _pissed. You had taken up residence at the furthest recesses of your mind to escape the anger that took control at long, long last. Your skin had become smooth as it always had been; and yet, upon rubbing it the other way, it was rough. 

_ Like a shark. _

Your ears had begun to take on a fin-like structure; the cartilage flexible and otherwise semi-translucent. An eel-like tail had formed behind you, twisting, turning, _ lashing. _Upon your skin, markings of bioluminescence throbbed in the rhythm of your heartbeat— a defense mechanism towards other predatory deep sea creatures. 

_ Or just predators in general. _

With the fury came the soberness, adrenaline and the sudden change chased out your drunkenness with a broom; telling the intoxication to get off of your lawn.

Angel’s eyes were wide, his lips pursed as he stared at you. Charlie and Vaggie were equally surprised; Charlie a bit less so. 

Deep inside, she had begun to wonder when you would access your true nature. No matter how sweet and kind you were, you still had been converted to a demon upon death. 

Husk, had, for once, put down his drink and stared owlishly at you. He didn’t hide the concern and shock in his expression. 

Alastor, however, had an utterly thrilled expression._ Whatever was going on through his mind, it wasn't good._

“Darling! This is _ wonderful! _You’re a demon after all!” He clapped his hands together, eyes glued to your form. You felt violated by his eyes alone.

At the realization of his words, it finally clicked in your head that you were actually _ dead, _ you were a _ demon, _and most importantly, you weren’t human anymore. 

The initial shock faltered just as confusion and annoyance flared up once again. You could feel the pulses of electricity spark around your hands, racing up your arms, causing you to glance down at them. It didn’t hurt you, no… it felt… _ invigorating. _

Now that you were semi-calm, the residents began to try to calm you down enough for you to get some stability. Namely, Charlie and Vaggie. Angel remained near the bar now with Husk, and Alastor watched on. 

“_Stop.” _The moment Charlie reached out for you, the electricity pulsed in your hands again, and with it, a sense of confusion; it became deeper and deeper the more the darkness had begun to spread from the corners of your eyes. “...Just...Stop.”

You collapsed to the ground as your consciousness escaped you. 


	32. Say Sike Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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The moment you had collapsed, silence had resounded throughout the room. 

The anger that had been been suffocatingly present had now been replaced with confusion, surprise, and concern. Confusion for the fact that they had not been aware of the things Alastor had done to you behind closed doors. The things that you did not wish to speak of, the things that kept you up at night in fear of the next day. 

The things you kept to yourself.

You shouldn’t have had to fear for what would come next. It had taken such an exhausting toll on you that you had hidden it deep inside, just to ensure the other residents had their share of happiness. You were imperfect, but you  _ tried.  _ The surprise for everything that had unraveled, of how you had come undone in front of all of them, of how much you had truly gone through since day one. 

They couldn’t say they hadn’t been aware, because they had been. 

You had sought out their help, their advice, their guidance— and they hadn’t gone through with anything. It hadn’t been a case of not doing anything because they didn’t want to, it was the case of they  _ couldn’t.  _ Whether it be for Charlie’s legacy and dream, they now had an extremely powerful entity within their walls. Perhaps it was a selfish desire to try to keep the peace. Charlie wasn’t perfect and she didn’t try to be, either.

She tried to be her best self, and with that came the responsibility for making sure that everyone knew that too. Charlie did not want to be seen as someone who didn’t take action; but it was true. She  _ hadn’t  _ done her best. 

She had thought you were entirely capable of handling the situation on your own, her attempts of chastising Alastor through stern language had been brushed off without a second thought. The blonde had grown attached to you in a short amount of time, and it pained her to see you go through such a struggle. But, along with Vaggie, 

You were one of the strongest people she knew. 

Yes, perhaps she could have tried harder. Perhaps she could have been a better friend, kept up with you, made sure you were alright, but she hadn’t. And now it was too late.  _ Now _ you didn’t have a choice; you  _ had _ to figure this out yourself. At this point, the most she could do was let you know that she supported you. She wasn’t sure if it would help— but she did know that the residents support towards her dream had helped her. 

She wondered if it could be the same for you. 

The concern happened when you had collapsed to the ground; it had been budding to the surface on low heat in her chest, but now it was fully realized, and  _ Charlie  _ was the one to make the first step towards your unconscious form. Vaggie had followed after her, helping her by putting one of your arms around her neck and the other around Charlie’s. Upon doing so, the two of them shared a concerned glance with each other. 

Whatever happened, they would figure it out together.

Despite Vaggie having been rough around the edges, she had grown fond of you as well. You were such a notable guest that, if you hadn’t been there, their lives would have been changed for the worse. She wasn’t sure if you realized your own sheer importance by just being  _ you,  _ for you had shown them kindness, shared smiles, laughs, jokes, advice of your own, but you had also shared your worries and woes. Your words of exhaustion and anxiety, and for that, Vaggie hadn’t been too keen on getting involved with the Radio Demon.

But you hadn’t either, and together, alongside the rest of the hotel’s patrons, you had swept them into something far larger and more important than you had meant to. Just by talking to them. Just by being there. 

Just by being their  _ friend _ . 

The bioluminescence had faded the moment you blacked out, truly the only purpose of it being a defensive mechanism; but alas, you could not defend yourself in a state of unconsciousness. Heaving your body up, Vaggie and Charlie began to bring you down the hallway towards your own room. There, they would lay you down and  _ lock  _ the door behind them. The only way to unlock it would be from the inside, and if you had been aware, you would have been eternally grateful. 

They did not want a single soul to disturb you. You needed time to revert to your original form, to heal. All they could do now was wait, anxiously, concerned. 

Alastor had been left in the lobby alongside Husk. With a tilt of his head, he straightened out his outfit. A small hum played upon his lips. 

With that said and done, he had vanished.

Husk had been glaring at him the entire time; even at the spot he had been in long after he had spontaneously disappeared. If only he could do the same in your life. The Radio Dickwad would always be a piece of shit to him; he had enslaved him here, he would be the gum on the back of his shoe for the rest of eternity. To say that those thoughts had been mellowed down was the understatement of his  _ era. _

In his mind, they had held much more vehement anger solely directed at said piece of shit. His grumpiness had hit an all time high, and, as he clutched a bottle in his clawed hand, he swung it back into his mouth.

Angel had left to his own room after a moment of deep recollection; or perhaps for stability from the confusion and suddenness of everything. Husk couldn’t be certain, but then again, he didn’t care enough to question it.

The moment Alastor had returned to his quarters, a record scratch had resounded within the vicinity before a lovely tune filtered in.

Such a song for such a wondrous moment in your development; thus he reclined into the high-backed chair. A cross of his legs just over the knee followed after in a show of such poised, elegant mannerisms that he would never neglect. His expression had contorted into a fixed, inscrutable one; a distant visage of lidded eyes held together with a distorted, impeccable grin. 

He narrowed them and leaned forward; his grin extending in mischievousness as if he had thought of such a wicked scheme. 

His other hand had found his cheek, thrumming against in a simultaneous fashion. Pupils dilated, lost in a reverie of twisted, precarious thoughts; swirled within sembalences of pride and exhilaration. The haunting melody traversed through the room; the crickets of the swamp buzzed and rubbed their legs together in an enchanting musical symphony; such music remained consistently prominent in such an absurd room.

Nevertheless, it always managed to hold such charming tranquility.

  
  
  
  
  


The moment you had regained consciousness, you had blearily blinked. Confusion and disorientation causing you to stare at the ceiling for a lot  _ longer  _ than you usually did. Everything felt sore,  _ exhausted,  _ your mind attempted to piece together the basic necessities of consciousness before you could even begin to fully come to access your awareness. You blinked again. Once. Twice.

Upon the third blink, you groaned and brought your hands to your head, stretching. The soreness wasn’t something that  _ hurt _ long term; your body had already done what it could throughout the night to heal, but it definitely was uncomfortable. Once you were sure you could move to reposition yourself, you twisted around and faced the wall.

Upon said wall harbored Alastor’s shadow, expanding and shrinking in a semblance of it actually breathing. You weren’t even fazed at that point, too tired to care, too exhausted to even think straight. “Get out.” You muttered against the pillow, closing your eyes once more.

When you reopened them to make sure it was gone, that it had  _ listened _ to you, you were met with the same sight on the same fucking wall. The dark silhouette titled it’s head at you; observing. Questioning.

Your face contorted in thinly veiled annoyance.

“You heard me.” You sat up then, albeit slowly, and pointed to the door. “Get out of my room. This is  _ my space damn it!”  _ You had a wicked headache, and the yelling didn’t do any wonders. The shadow remained for a moment before it slid off the wall, down to the floor, under your bed, and out from under the crack in your door. 

You fell back into your pillows with a heavy sigh. 

It would have been so easy to stay in bed all day, and you very well could have, but you needed to occupy your mind; and god damn it, you were determined to have a good day despite whatever  _ the fuck  _ had happened yesterday. You briefly remembered turning into a shark, eel… something. Whatever it was. 

You would get details from Husk or Angel. At least they didn’t feed you bullshit. If you had to face Alastor, he would have to deal with your shitty attitude. You just…  _ didn’t care anymore.  _

You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it, about  _ him _ for a moment longer, so, hopping in the shower to not only try to warm up your muscles and wash away all the nasty feelings that had bewitched you, you didn’t think at all. 

For once, your mind was quiet.

Getting ready would always remain an easy feat for you to complete. You had gotten into comfortable clothing; your previous attire from the day before having been ripped from the events that had occurred. You tossed them onto your bed in a huff. You’d deal with that later. 

As you reached the lobby, you had ultimately decided to skip breakfast as a whole. You wouldn’t— _ couldn’t— _ eat in that moment. Your stomach churned uncomfortably in the way of anxiousness. 

Like your mind had been, the entirety of the lobby remained in a quiet reverie, the creaking of the floorboards under your weight, the settling of the hotel as a whole, the ticking of a grandfather clock that betrayed such lack of sound. 

You paused. 

How long had you been out? With scrunched up brows, you made your way towards the clock. Dust had begun to accumulate around the glass. Nine in the morning. 

Of course, that gave you all the explanation you would ever need. No one would be up at this time, especially after a day that had caused more stress than actual relaxation. Perhaps you would actually get a moment to yourself then; a soft sigh escaped you as you turned around, and made headway towards the obsidian broom that lay vacantly positioned against the closet door. 

You wouldn’t say you still felt as pissed as you had been, because you felt a whole lot better now that you had gotten everything off of your chest. You were still angry, and you had the right to be for all the bullshit you had to put up with. You wrapped your fingers around the obsidian handle and pulled it towards you. 

It was cool against your skin. Cool against your skin… like the monocle. 

God damn it. 

You gripped it harder until your knuckles began to show your frustration. No, you know what? You needed to take a deep breath and relax. You closed your eyes for a moment, and with the exhale, your hands eased up just slightly. 

He wasn’t there to torture you. 

You could finally do some good old fashioned manual labor  _ by yourself.  _ Despite Niffty having done a seamless job, as she always did, she often missed spots in her excitement and anticipation to get to the next room. 

That’s where you came in; and with whatever had happened yesterday— you looked over to the center of the lobby with a grimace— there were more than a few spots to finish up. All you could remember were the emotions and a few snippets of  _ something  _ happening to you. 

Overall, you had disassociated with yourself the moment it had gotten to be too much. 

The sound of a swinging door originating from the kitchen made you jump slightly before you turned your head to peer over your shoulder. You had thought you had been the only one awake but, once again, you had been proven wrong. At the very least, the demon that had left the kitchen  _ wasn’t _ the one that you had despised. 

_ Charlie. _

You felt a sensation of relief ease up the strain on your shoulders, even though she had nearly dropped her new notebook upon seeing you not only out of bed, but  _ working.  _ There was a stalemate, silence for the longest of moments before she gasped, put her work down, and booked it straight towards you. You flinched at the stern expression on her face. That didn’t look good.

You mentally prepared for the mother henning.

You were correct in your assumption.

“Are you insane!? No,  _ no working.”  _ When she reached you, she began inspecting you in a way a mother would when they hadn’t seen their child for so long. You scrunched your face up in an irritated manner. Though, you couldn’t help but feel endeared over the fact that she cared so much about you taking it easy. You watched in awe as she fixed your shirt, and the moment she was about to fix your _ hair,  _ you grabbed her wrists gently. 

“I’m _ fine _ , Charlie.” You whispered tiredly, the smallest of smiles toying upon your lips. You unwrapped your hands from her wrists and she returned them to her side. Charlie noticed the dark circles under your eyes, and she felt even worse about all the things that you had gone through and still had yet to endure. But you were strong, she reminded herself. She believed in you. 

But she still remained adamant about making sure you relaxed. 

Despite how long she had been in Hell, she had only ever seen a handful of demons change into their true form for the first time. Generally, it happened in high-stress or emotional situations; and to say that her father wasn’t the most forgiving would have been an understatement. She had always been sheltered away from those places and scenarios however, but her mother did tell her about it when she was younger. 

To put it in simple terms, it was the most physically exhausting thing you could go through down here. 

“I don’t want to relax,” you spoke up. “I  _ can’t  _ in this place—  _ please.”  _ Your voice conveyed how tired you really were; how much you wanted to set your focus on something that was outside of you, rather than inside of you. On something that you could control. Each time you tried to relax, you had ended up either angry, drunk, or hurt. 

Charlie paused, her thoughts remaining vigilant as her efforts of trying to do the right thing faltered. She sighed, peering at the distressed expression that you had adorned upon your face. 

“...Just take as many breaks as you need, okay?” 

You nodded. That was something you were accepting of. She placed a hand on your shoulder and patted it before she turned away and disappeared down a long hallway. Needless to say, you started sweeping soon after. Your thoughts wavered on whether or not to turn on the television for background noise. You gave into those desires quickly. 

No one was in the lobby except for you, and as far as you were aware, you could do whatever you wanted. 

Striding over to the bar, you leaned over the counter and felt around for the remote on the top shelf, where it normally was. Your tongue poked out as you screwed your face into a determined expression, reaching further and further until— aha! 

You gripped the remote, brought it up over the counter, and aimed it towards the television. You guessed you could have just walked around the other side, but who were you to ever take the easy road? Generally, easy roads were too good to be true. And when things seemed like they  _ were  _ too good to be true, they usually were.

The face that greeted you on the screen was the familiar news anchor; her voice shrill and overbearingly  _ fake.  _ Her co-anchor had a masculine, muffled voice, but you could only assume it was because of the mask that covered the majority of his face.

When you put the volume low enough to not be able to make out specific words, but just enough so you didn’t go insane in the silence, you placed the remote down. The sound of sweeping behind you caught your attention soon after; and you began to grow excited over the fact that you would be able to help out Niffty again. 

You turned to greet her. 

The individual that greeted you was not the hyper, enthusiastic little gremlin but instead the  _ last  _ soul you ever wanted to encounter again.

The one individual that you hated most with a burning passion, the one demon that could jump off of a ten story building and you wouldn’t care less. Your broom clattered to the hardwood floor; your fists clenched to your sides. 

Alastor swept in an eager manner, a whistle enriched the vicinity. 

After everything, after  _ everything,  _ he still refused to leave you alone. 

He didn’t even offer a glance to you upon realizing you were glaring at him. You knew he knew you were; you were currently positioned just off to his side. No less, he continued to sweep as if it were his passion project. 

Your eyes trailed down to the broom that was held together by tape, rather poorly, in your opinion. Despite it having been with you since the beginning, you knew you had to let it go. He just continued to disturb the grave, just like he did with everything else. 

“...What are you _ doing?”  _ You hissed out, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration and confusion. 

His ear pivoted towards the sound of your voice, and, if you had been any closer, you would have noticed that his grin had grown larger by centimeters. 

“Sweeping!” His voice returned in a chipper, light, airy tone; as if it were the most simple answer in the world, and not in a manner as if he had constantly harassed you since the moment he met you. He turned to look at you then, the corners of his eyes crinkled  _ just barely  _ in amusement. 

“Go away.” The words fell from you in a sigh. Your exhaustion skyrocketed just by being in the same vicinity as him. You turned around to pick your broom back up; and he took a step forward. 

“Forgive me, I’m trying to work!” 

He began to sweep around you in a close enough circle that you could feel your eye twitch.

If his goal had been to get on your last nerve, he had succeeded a  _ long  _ time ago.

You gritted your teeth; your mind racing through all the possibilities and scenarios of how you could murder him in cold blood. Exasperated, you brought your index finger and thumb to the bridge of your nose, the other hand remaining positioned at your side, balled up into a fist. 

“Could you give me like, _five minutes, _just five!” You raised your voice slightly to get your point across. “Where you aren’t in my head or actively trying to piss me off?” 

“I can’t help how often you think of me, darling!” He turned the other way with a loud, single noted whistle; a smug expression adorning his face; completely and utterly out of your view. 

You wanted to throttle him. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, allowing your broom to remain on the floor. If he was legitimately going to work, which you found to be absolutely ridiculous because he  _ never  _ did _ ,  _ you’d do his job and pretend to manage everything and be the thorn in  _ his  _ side.

“You  _ invade _ my thoughts. There’s a  _ difference _ .” You explained it like he were some sort of dipshit. In your mind, he was. He was the dippiest of shits. “And just like  _ everything else,  _ you took that choice from me, too.” You huffed and plopped to the floor in an obstinate manner.

You were very tired, very annoyed, and very frustrated. You were running out of options. You were at your last straw, your last—

“I didn’t take anything from you.” He lifted the broom to the ceiling, “In  _ fact,  _ I’ve only tried to offer you my affections. It’s so cruel how you torment me!” Holding the broom with two hands, he attempted to get those errant cobwebs that neither you nor Niffty could reach. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

It was so cruel how you… tormented  _ him?  _ A disbelieving laugh escaped you. He was deranged, out of his damn mind. Oh, he really thought you were the one tormenting him! Your laughter soon ebbed away; lips twisted into a frown. You watched him do  _ your  _ job. Of course he was doing your job.  _ You  _ were more than capable of doing it yourself, so why was he  _ doing it!? _

“I really hate you.” Paired with squinted eyes, you couldn’t  _ even _ anymore. 

“Yes, you’ve told me. Many times in fact!” He looked down at the barely-held-together broom in thought. “Though, you can’t seem to understand that I don’t  _ care.”  _ He narrowed his own eyes, only easing them when the bristles caught a cobweb and disregarded it. 

Repositioning yourself, you used the hands-on-knees technique to help you up. You felt like you were speaking to a child; a deranged, psychotic child. Then again, didn’t you just describe a child in general? You stalked over to him and positioned yourself in front of him to block his path.

He peered down at you with a raised brow, paused in his half-assed attempt of cleaning. Because anything Alastor did was half-assed. God, you were so salty. He made you so salty. 

“Bend down.” You stated. Your pissed off expression should have been enough to not trust you whatsoever. 

He bent at his waist, still holding onto your old broom with two gloved, clawed hands. They drummed expectantly on the wood; eyes trailing across your form in silence. 

You leaned forward. 

“You don’t seem to understand,” a mocking tone as you lowered your voice, “That I will never,  _ EVER!” _ A yell to accentuate your meaning. “...Like you.” You brought your hand up and flicked him between the eyes, and in turn, he swatted your hand away; the edges of his lips twitched.

“Get that through your head.” You huffed, leaning back. What did he not understand about that?

Apparently everything. 

“We seem to be at an impasse.” He hummed as he straightened himself out. “But rest assured! You’re already the owner of my heart, my dear. Do with it what you will.” He tapped you on the nose with an impish grin, and turned to return to the cobwebs of the places that couldn’t be reached easily. 

You made a face.

You were going to go berserk. 

“You don’t even  _ have _ a heart. _ ”  _ A snarky reply was only required in a situation such as this. You crossed your arms in a dramatic show of your irritation. 

He chuckled darkly, “Oh, you’re such a silly, silly creature. Of course I do! Demons aren’t without their vital organs, you know~” he took a single hand off of the broom as he glanced over his shoulder; his grin ever eternal and macabre. A clawed hand waved in the air as if searching for a specific phrase as if he hadn’t already finished. At last he settled on:

_ “...For the most part.”  _

The memory of the beating organ in the kitchen nearly made you lose color in your face simply at the thought of it. Following that one, the party, and then your  _ talk,  _ and then the— You inhaled deeply. His confession. As you unclenched your fists, you remained rooted to the spot, eyes trained on his back as he swept away to a tune that you had never heard.

“Take back what you said after the party.” 

You didn’t want to believe him. After everything he had put you through, if you had to result to childish bickering, you would. Again, you were running out of options. You just… wanted him to give up; but at this point, it was a laughable speculation. You knew the chances were exceedingly slim, practically unfathomable at this point. You were in the deep part of this shitstorm now. 

He sighed. “Unlike some of us, I don’t resort to such foolish things. I say what I mean.” His movements were halted for a moment, taking the initiative to stroll over to another spot, closer to you than the other one. When he reached it, he peered down to you. “At least to you, darling!” He fluttered his eyelashes, that smile twisting into a flirtatious grin. 

_ He was flirting with you. _

You stared up at him with parted lips, shock prominent on your features. He was being serious. Of course he was, you idiot. You were at a loss of how to respond, and you tore your gaze away, face warming from the surprise and embarrassment of it all.

“You don’t even know how to kiss.” You hadn’t been thinking when those words spilled out, just like it had been for the past couple of days. Don’t think, just  _ do.  _

There was a record scratch that emitted from his person and you watched as he visibly stiffened. His neck snapped with the speed in which he turned to look at you, his grin lopsided before it smoothed out at the ridges. 

He leaned down with a clear of his throat, lowering his voice as if it were some secret you were sharing. 

“Care to offer some tutoring lessons?” 

His claws were holding the broom with an intensity that suggested he was holding himself back from doing something that you didn’t even  _ want  _ to know. His words made your stomach churn in both discomfort and… something else that you didn’t want to humor. You shrugged and took a single step back. Too close. 

You wouldn’t let that deter you from your mission to piss him off, though. 

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Now it was  _ your  _ turn to mess with him. You couldn’t believe you were actually thinking that you could perhaps even have fun doing it. After all the stuff he put you through, you  _ deserved _ to mess with him. Maybe this time he wouldn’t choke you. 

You grimaced at that foul memory.

“What a shame! I’m so willing to learn!” He placed his hand on where his heart would be, you know, if he  _ had one,  _ and nearly bowed to you in the process. He could claim and tell you anything he wanted you to hear, but he would only ever be a liar to you. He had shown it through his past actions and you were entirely sure he would show it through his future actions too.

He had not tried to fix what had already been broken. 

His little gifts were not purposed toward apology; and he acted as if he expected you to accept them with open arms. As if he hadn’t even done anything wrong. As if he were the one in the right.

“Unlike  _ you,  _ I actually care about my… health.” You looked at his teeth, a smug smile threatening to erupt on your face. But not because of him, no, you were proud of sticking up for yourself. You glanced up at him then with a raised brow. “Did you use the toothpaste yet?” 

He scoffed. “Bold of you to assume I don’t brush my teeth. I happen to take _ pride  _ in my appearance.” He puffed his chest and raised his chin in the most cliche, masculine display you had the displeasure of seeing. You know, the type of pose that some snobby bitch, rich off daddy’s money did before you called them out on their shit. 

That type. 

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “They’re naturally yellow.” 

Oh, he was  _ sensitive  _ over his smile. Too bad.

“Well, they don’t  _ look _ natural!” You couldn’t hide the smile at this point. You were all too willing to continue to make him feel uncomfortable about it. After all, that was the only reason you were offering him your attention— you were trying to get back at him for all the times he made you feel uncomfortable. 

He rolled his eyes, placing the broom at his side for a moment. “Most demons don’t look natural, my dear. You will learn that in time.” He shooed you off.

But no, he didn’t get to shoo you off. He never went away when  _ you  _ shooed him off. Like hell you were going to. 

“Are you getting sensitive about your appearance?” Your tone lilted in a baby voice, completely disregarding his statement like he did. All. The. Time. You didn’t care. Revenge was sweet. You were beginning to have fun with making fun of him too, and absolutely  _ not  _ because you were beginning to tolerate his presence. 

Because that would just be blasphemy.

Alastor rose a brow in amusement. “Now, that’s just wacky nonsense!” That would be utterly ridiculous. He picked up the broom once more, choosing to try to ignore you. “Have you, perchance, seen a slime demon yet?” 

Your smile twitched.

He hummed.

“I’ll have you know,” He began, and you could see the gold medal on the horizon that stated ‘winner’. That single phrase  _ always  _ meant that you were on a topic that was sensitive in any sort of manner. That they always had something to prove. His raised chin signified his egotistical nature.

“I have absolutely nothing to feel shame for in my appearance.” A pause, “In fact, I am one of the lucky demons to so closely resemble my human body.” He stated proudly, that grin being flashed in your direction.

Your expression soured for a moment before a bright,  _ terrible  _ idea found its placement within your mind. 

“I’m one of the lucky demons to so closely resemble my human body,” you mocked his voice as you pointed two thumbs at yourself. “Oh, look at me! I can summon a stupid microphone,” you leaned down and picked up your broom, acting as if the pole were his said instrument and began to speak into it. 

You watched his claws flex. Good, you damn bastard.  _ Good. _

“And I have a stupid monocle and I have—” you let the broom drop to the ground again in a clatter before you brought your hands to your face, and with a dramatic gasp, “and I have to make sure that I violate everyone’s personal space because  _ I’m so important!”  _ The back of your palm found your forehead as you swooned dramatically.

“Woe is me! The girl I like doesn’t like me back!” To tie it all together, you formed fists and made a weeping motion. “ _ Boo-hoo _ .” 

After all was said and done, you placed your hands on your hips and smugly looked up at him. 

Oh yeah, it felt good to mock him. You felt exhilarated with how you were quite literally on death’s door, considering how you were entirely too aware of how he could snap you out of existence with a clap of his hands alone. 

But all he did was let out a strained sigh. You almost felt disappointed.  _ Now  _ he didn’t want to get all spooky on you?  _ Now?  _

“And to think when I help you out of the goodness of my heart, you go ahead and mock me!” He held the broom in the nook of his elbow, often seen with how he did such with his microphone. 

And if that weren’t enough:

“My darling little hybrid has  _ quite _ a mouth on her,” He  _ returned _ the baby voice at you as he brought his hands up and clasped them at the side of his face, batting his eyelashes to you as if you were the cutest damn thing he had ever seen. 

Hybrid? All that remained in your mind was a fuzzy memory of something… changing, but what it had been exactly, you weren’t aware. You would no doubt bring that back up later with someone  _ else.  _ Nevertheless, Alastor continued to be a thorn in your side, the most annoying presence you had ever come to know. 

Knowing him, he would have taken that as a compliment. 

“Want me to tell you everything about you that annoys me?” Oh, that would be fun. Because it was him. There wouldn’t be anything specific— it was just  _ everything about him.  _

He wrinkled his eyes in amusement, a loud ‘hm’ falling from him as he brought his forefinger and thumb to his chin. And then he leaned down, pinching your cheek in an adoring manner. “Oh, do tell.” He almost sounded  _ excited.  _ Just like he had, you batted his hand away with a frown. 

“After that, I’ll tell you all the things I simply  _ adore _ about you!”

With gritted teeth, you rethought your plan. You couldn’t help it; your curiosity reaching a breaking point over what he found so utterly… irresistible about you that he wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone. Maybe after he told you, you would change everything about you that he revealed to you. It was easier said than done. 

You cleared your throat dramatically. 

If you had to deal with him yourself, you would.

"There isn't enough time in the day—in the year _ — _ in this entire  _ eternity _ we're condemned to for me to tell you everything about you that drives me up the damn wall.” You began, the words spilling out a lot easier than you had originally thought. You began to pace back and forth in front of him, throwing your arms out in exasperation. 

“The word insufferable doesn't even  _ begin _ to define you as a person!” You laughed humorlessly and in doing so, pointed a finger at him. “I think if I combined everything I've ever hated, everything that made me mad or sick to my stomach, it wouldn't even come  _ close _ to how much I positively despise you.” Your amusement had faltered the deeper you got into your rant; falling into a space of finally being able to get everything off of your chest. 

“How you ended up as a deer demon will be a mystery to me forever, because you're anything but  _ dear _ to me.” You laughed again. Angel Dust would have been proud of you for that one. “Actually!  _ Ha! _ It does make sense! Because deer are actually considered a menace, just like you!” With a few strides, you appeared in front of him again, pushing your finger against his chest. 

“And you know what? Even if that bullet had hit right between your eyes I don't think it would've made a  _ DENT _ because your skull is so damn thick! I mean, who even does half the things you do!? A quarter of the things you do!?” You pulled your hand away, becoming more animated the more frustrated you got. 

“Oh, and don’t even get me  _ started  _ on all that awful noise you constantly make, your stupid radio chatter— you probably weren't even a good host!” You stood on your toes, leaning up to him just to get in his personal bubble just as he did with you. “In  _ fact _ , I would have tuned out the minute I heard your voice- it's grating.” 

Your smile had turned sickeningly sweet, your tone betraying your true intentions, however. You grabbed his cheek and pinched it harshly. Yeah bitch, that hurt, didn’t it? 

He swatted your hand away again, and you shrugged, falling back to your regular position and rocking on your heels. “Ohh, you think you're so clever too, don’t you?” You didn’t even take a break between your words to catch your breath, so utterly heated in that moment. 

“You’re not half as smart as you think you are. No no, otherwise you would have noticed forever ago that  _ I. can't. stand. you!”  _ Your fists clenched at your sides before you leaned back, pointing over at the kitchen.

“And ya know, for a minute I thought that absolutely disgusting heart on the table was yours, because that's the  _ exact _ bullshit I've come to expect from you.” You felt high off of adrenaline. “But then I remembered- you don't have a heart!” You exclaimed dramatically with a gasp, before letting your hands run down your cheeks.

You were going to end this man’s whole career. 

“All you are is a possessive egotistical megalomaniac who can't figure out when to take a damn  _ hint! _ ” You began to move behind him, not bothering to even offer him a glance when he turned his head inhumanly to follow you. “Also, that tail of yours,” uncaring for your safety, for it was a good way to die, you reached over to his jacket and pulled the end of it up to reveal said tail. 

You laughed genuinely. It was just so ridiculous looking! 

“It  _ ruins  _ the whole ‘Spooky Shadow Radio Demon’ look you’re going for.” You pointed at the fluffy red and black thing. “That shit is adorable and does  _ not  _ fit on you. You don’t deserve it.” He didn’t deserve such a fluffy, cute thing. When the bastard  _ wiggled it  _ to creep you out, your nearly screamed, grip faltering. The end of his suit jacket fell from your fingers. 

But you weren’t done. 

You rounded to his front again and stared up at him. “Oh, oh,  _ and _ every time I see your face it makes me want to punch something!” And then you gasped again, because how rude of you! 

You had forgotten he was too stupid to understand what you meant!

“That’s right! You’re from the nineteen twenties, right? Let me put this in terms you’ll understand.” You paused for effect, closing your eyes for the briefest of seconds. When you reopened them, your nose wrinkled. 

“It really makes me want to start swinging.” You snapped your fingers, before throwing your arms in front of you as if you bring attention towards his entire person with a guffaw. “And talk about  _ OUTDATED!  _ No wonder video killed the radio star! I mean just  _ look  _ at you!” 

You took a step forward, at this point too far gone to even consider your personal safety. Safety? Who’s she? 

“You want to know the real kicker in all of this? The most annoying thing? I think I'm actually starting to get bored. Nothing you do is surprising, you’ve become  _ predictable,  _ Alastor.” You leaned onto your toes to once again disregard his five-foot-rule.

Fuck his five-foot-rule.

“And that kiss? It wasn't even good. I'd rather kiss  _ Fat Nuggets. _ " And then you laid your palms flat on his chest and pushed yourself away. 

And scene. You nearly bowed. Your expression had turned so utterly smug in the fashion of your pride in yourself.

“Oh, I’ve had quite an earful.” He readjusted his monocle, easing the wrinkles in his outfit before he crossed his arms behind his back. He would have thought you’d have been a bit more creative. “I have to admit, I’m disappointed!” 

You nearly punched him right then and there. You held your hand in your other hand to ensure you didn’t. He had listened to you and now you had to listen to him.

See? You could handle this like an adult.

“I thought you would have figured out, especially by now, that demon transformations have all to do with how you die.” A single step, unraveling his arms from behind his back as he tapped you on your nose before continuing.

“Besides, being me has its perks. As you know, there’s nothing you can do to stop my…” He paused for dramatic effect, waving his hand around as if he were thinking of something that he hadn’t already thought of. 

_ “...Pursuit of you.” _

But not even he was close to finished. “And if you think your charming little rant is going to stop me, well, just be aware.” He bent over, just so he could line up his mouth with your ear, as if he were going to tell you the secrets to the universe.

“There is no  _ force _ on Earth or otherwise that would be able to deter me from seeking your hand in courtship.” He finished by pulling away with a very stretched, despicable, grin.

He was threatening your hand in courtship now, great.

“As it were,” He straightened himself back out, “It’s just for so many reasons that I will never be stopped.” His tone had grown excited, his actions flamboyant and animated as he grabbed your hand and, against your will, spun you into his chest. 

You tried to move away, seriously considering putting stacks of dynamite on his sleeping form and then detonating him. He held you tighter, and you grumbled. The moment he placed his chin on your head to keep you still,  _ god his head was heavy _ , you reeled your arm back and elbowed him in the gut. 

The bastard chuckled and allowed you to go. What pissed you off more was the fact that he didn’t even seem remotely fazed. You backed up, and he took a step forward just as his hands began to grow sporadic again.

“You see, I find you oh, so  _ charming! _ So  _ entertaining!  _ There is an innocence that floats about you, and I find it so delectable!” His grin wavered with the passion in his voice; and you couldn’t help but find it interesting with how expressive someone could get when they had a near-permanent smile. 

“ _ Sometimes, I find myself drooling over the thought of you. _ ” 

He lowered his voice, then. His eyes drifted upwards, a red shade upon his cheeks betraying his thoughts. “I  _ know _ you remember our tryst in the closet, your blood was just  _ so _ refreshing, why, it was like iced tea on a hot summer sunday!” He leaned down, “I can assure you, my dear, there is nothing quite like the taste of your blood.” 

And then he, once again, stood up and began to walk in a large circle around you, hands flying to accentuate different words.

“And your comical responses to my gifts! Oh ho, I know you say you hate them, but darling, you don’t even  _ look _ at your old broom anymore!” He motioned at the broom in his hand. 

“Though you may have fed my cookies to that... swine, I personally disagree when you say you don’t like my cooking, I just need to find out what suits your tastes, and know,  _ I will find out.” _ The last part of that statement had sounded like a threat, and when he squinted down at you before pausing in his movements, you knew that it was  _ meant  _ to be one.

Yeah, that made you feel better. Sure.

“We have eternity to spend down here in this quaint little Hell of ours, and I’d like to make it as pleasurable as possible for you.” He took one step forward, his legs poised together as he held the broom in a similar fashion to that of his microphone.

The stance he remained in just showcased how very tall and dangerous he was, the air of pretentious superiority had him looking down his nose at you in a lascivious manner.

“And speaking of  _ pleasure _ , I’m not the one who continues to bring up our first kiss. It seems to be  _ you _ who is ruminating in that particular memory.” He tapped you on the nose again, lightly dragging his claw down to teasingly run across your bottom lip. You nearly bit his finger. He slid his palm over the warmth of your cheek before that happened, however.

“Though, I don’t blame you. I thought it was rather  _ sweet _ .”

His head tilted to the side daintily as if he were reminiscing in the memory. “I will admit, it was my first time in a  _ long _ time.” He sighed dreamily, “We should really remedy that soon, as I secretly find myself thinking about sealing my lips back over yours…” He lowered his voice slightly, bending down.

“...Particularly when you are unable to keep your mouth  _ shut  _ for very long.” 

He ended by playfully wrapping his hand around your chin, his expression attempting to portray his seriousness. 

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at his words.

You were  _ speechless _ .

Oh, the  _ audacity  _ he had to talk to you like that. Your face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and fury. Oh, you hated him now more than ever. You hated how he knew how to push your buttons. You didn’t like what you were feeling, whatever it was. Frustration? No, it was something different and you hated it with a burning passion; you absolutely despised it.  _ Him.  _

You hated him, you hated him, you  _ fucking hated him.  _

“...Fuck you.” It was all you could think of. 

He chuckled. “A very kind offer, but darling, I don’t think we’re quite there yet!” He straightened himself out, loudly announcing: “I mean, this is only our  _ first date! _ ” As if he really wanted the entire hotel to hear. 

“OUR  _ WHAT!? _ ” You yelled, scrambling forward to absolutely suckerpunch his face in. You tripped over your own feet in the process, your shock and surprise skyrocketed.

But Alastor was there to catch you, a firm but gentle grip wrapping about your waist to set you right again. He didn’t try to linger either, releasing you as soon as you had your footing. You slapped his arm away. How dare he…  _ help you.  _ You squinted furiously up at him. 

“Have I misunderstood what a date is, my dear?” He tilted his head slightly. “I was led to understand that it involved spending quality time with the one you care about while sharing playful jests with one another!” He paused, “Is that not what this is?” He questioned.

Your mouth felt dry. “This is not—“ He was out of his mind. You were in the  _ lobby.  _ Of course he fucking would think it was a date, because you were giving him your actual attention.  _ Of course _ he would. You stepped forward, pointing at him angrily. “This is  _ not a date.” _

He shrugged with a smug, lipped smile. “I reckon you’re right. I really should take you someplace nicer for our first date, do you like—“ 

“THERE WON’T  _ BE  _ A FIRST DATE, ALASTOR!” You cried out, “What don’t you understand!?” 

He peered down at you then. “Seemingly everything, I suppose.” A hum of a single note then, “You, my dear, are a  _ confounding  _ woman. But worry not! Lucifer explained to me what I needed to do.” 

_ Oh goodie.  _

You began to rub your temples, the headache he gave you just by being near you growing prominent. “Tell me… what you  _ don’t understand  _ about ‘I don’t like you’ and I’ll explain it.” 

“We’ve tried that before, sweetheart, I’ll just keep it a surprise for you!” He grinned, leaning over to peck you on the forehead before he started sweeping a few paces from you. 

You angrily rubbed your forehead, desperate to get his show of affection that still buzzed around your heated, distraught skin. He wouldn’t win that easily, not with you. 

You stalked over to him, positioned yourself behind, waited for his foot to lift before promptly kicking at it, attempting to trip him up. 

Childish, one might say, but you didn’t give a  _ shit.  _ You were running out of options at an alarming rate. And you were afraid of what would happen when you did. Not that it would ever come to that, of course, you wouldn’t allow it. You tried kicking him again, harder. 

“Darling, I’ve already fallen for you. There’s no need to trip me!” He chimed in a suave tone without even offering you a turn of his head, already working the broom between a few paintings, carefully sweeping away the dust that had accumulated, 

You reeled your foot back and kicked his ankle,  _ hard. _

He looked at you over his shoulder then with narrowed eyes. “Keep this up, and I’m going to be forced to put you into time out.” 

_ “Time out?”  _ You guffawed, putting your foot back down momentarily. “I’m not scared of you.” You sneered, picking up your foot and kicking at him again. “I’m not a kid,  _ fuck you.  _ I’m not going on a stupid date. This is  _ my _ job. Why are you sweeping? You NEVER work.” Each phrase was a kick against his shin. 

Albeit, it was more out of frustration that actual anger. 

He just didn’t get it!

He turned to you then. “Darling, anyone could see that you’re not afraid of me. It’s one of your charming qualities!” He laughed that posh laugh that only he could manage. That know-it-all laugh, the string of  _ ‘ha’s’ _ . 

You weren’t even sure what he was laughing at. You couldn’t bring yourself to be surprised at this point, either. 

When he came down from his amusement high, he craned his neck down towards you. “As for the sweeping, well, you really should be taking it easy.” 

You crossed your arms in which was a signal for him to elaborate.

“First transformations are incredibly draining, my dear.” He took a deep breath which meant he was going to tell you something about himself that you didn’t ask for. You rolled your eyes. “I remember the first time I did, though, I don’t believe I had the opportunity for respite as you do.” 

That was… shorter than you expected. 

He settled his hand on your head, and smoothly pushed you away, snapping his fingers to trap you in a clear box large enough to walk in a circle in. 

“And I’m sure you know what a time out is.” A laugh track resounded from around him as he squinted his eyes at you.

You were fuming. He was treating you like a child. “I’m not a child!” You yelled, the clear box warping your voice and echoing it back to you. This was such bullshit! You attempted to push against the barrier in which it only reverberated around you. 

“How am I to work under such harassment? I adore you truly, but there is work to be done!” He motioned towards the room that was practically spotless. That didn’t prove his point. “I’m sure you couldn’t imagine working under such circumstances!” 

You nearly laughed. 

He was literally describing what he did to you on the daily. You narrowed your eyes, searching for different ways to spite him or remedy the situation in your favor so you could get out. Yell? Already done. Tell him you hate him? Check. Come on, think of something that you hadn’t and  _ wouldn’t ever do.  _

“...I’ll give you a kiss if you let me out.” Listen, if you had to manipulate the situation to get out of here by stating something  _ you would never do,  _ you would.

That got him to pause. Bingo. 

He turned around with a flourish to face you, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t know, you’ve been  _ awfully _ rude to me today!” He rubbed his chin with his clawed hand, “And this way I can enjoy how adorable you are when you’re angry.” 

This was too easy.

You squinted your eyes mischievously.

“No kiss for you, then.” You began to turn away the moment he came closer. You snickered internally. 

“You’re giving up so easily,” He walked closer, holding the broom in the same position he had with his microphone, again. You wondered why he didn’t put the damn thing down. What point was he trying to make? “Darling, that’s so unlike you, are you feeling ill?”

Reel in the fish, nice and slow.

You could feel smugness crawl up your spine. Oh, he was in over his head. “Oh, no, I think I’m just realizing my feelings now.” You turned around to face him, batting your eyelashes. “I’ve been  _ so _ stubborn, lately!”

“I’m a demon. I can smell a lie, you silly creature. Try harder.” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. 

Same boat, buster. “Come here. I’m being serious, Al.” You rocked on your heels flirtatiously. You weren’t great at flirting, no, but you were  _ leagues  _ above him. “You want me to teach you?” You referred to his flirtatious attempt earlier. 

“Are you saying you want to make a deal?”

No, you dumb bastard. You felt your eye twitch. “No, I want to make out with you.” You replied bluntly. The words were disgusting.  _ You  _ felt disgusting. “Come here.”

He narrowed his eyes further into mere slits. Regardless, he came to the barrier, and merely enlarged it so he could be inside with you. 

“You were saying?”

“I said if you let me out I would.” You shook your head, taking a chance to tap at the barrier. It rippled around your fingertip again. You peered up at him expectantly. 

“Manipulation can be quite attractive, I suppose… very well.” He snapped his fingers, the box phasing out of existence. He bent over and pointed to his cheek with a claw. “Payment is due.”

You stared at his face long and hard. You wanted to punch it. It was such a punchable face.

“That’s not how you make out with someone.” You motioned for him to get closer to you. 

“Shall I get on my knees for you?” He inquired teasingly.

You leaned into him without touching his face, and led him into a false state of security. He, a man with the literal intelligence of a frog when it came to romance, closed his eyes. You hummed out loud, scanning his stupid fucking face as you let your breath fall upon his lips.

And then you leaned away. 

“ _ Sike _ .” You snickered, a smug expression upon your lips. “I can’t believe you fell for that— that's like,  _ that’s like  _ grade school level stuff.” You laughed before letting him go. “Stupid.” Because he deserved to know. 

“Only for you.” He reached over and let his claws trail gently across your cheek, the look of fondness on his features seemed misplaced on such a dishonorable abomination. You stiffened. Your heart skipped a beat. Whoa. What the fuck? You laughed nervously because what the  _ fuck was that?  _ Did your heart actually just skip a beat? 

You felt ill, suddenly.

You grabbed his hand and took it off of your face, pushing it far away. Very, very far away from you. 

“I will  _ never _ kiss you.” You murmured, looking off to the side. He had kissed  _ you _ , not the other way around. You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“You already have.”

“No I  _ didn’t _ .”

He hummed. “Well, unlike some people, I have work to do.”

You watched as he began to turn away. “Even though you can snap your fingers and have that do it for you? I call  _ bullshit _ .” You sneered. “You just don’t want to face the truth, Alastor.”

“Are you saying you want to spend more time with me?” He gasped, almost excitedly. “Why, my darling employee, I could sue you for sexual harassment!” An audience gasp resounded around him. “A kiss and trying to get me to stop working?” He tsked. 

You weren’t amused. “And I could get a restraining order on you but I haven’t, so tell me this: What don’t you understand about ‘I don’t like you’?” You repeated your previous question from earlier that he had avoided.

Like he always did.

Alastor’s smile twitched at the edges. “There isn’t enough time for such a conversation.”

“What?” You knitted your brows in confusion. You literally had eternity. He literally said it himself!

He rolled his eyes, waving a hand. “Pish posh, your words are always so flippant. How am I to believe you?”

You were so confused. What the hell was he on about now? “Are you talking about what just happened?” 

He turned to fully face you again. “‘Don’t come in my room, don’t decorate with organs,’ your rules are so strict!” He declared. “I come to you with the truth, and you tell me to take back my words. You, my dear,” He tapped you on the cheek, “Are a very  _ fascinating _ creature, but only time will reveal what you truly mean to say to me.”

_ What the fuck? What the fuck? _

“What the fuck?” You whispered. Everything he said was always so astoundingly  _ confusing.  _ It was all bullshit. “My rules? Didn’t your  _ mother  _ ever tell you how to treat a woman with respect? Didn’t she ever tell you to not touch one without them telling you it was okay? That’s not how you…” you search for the word. “Woo? Woo someone.”

He leaned back with a smug grin, “Perhaps  _ you’ll _ just have to teach me.”

You sighed. You were so tired of this. So tired of how he didn’t take no for an answer, so tired of how he just… always directed the conversation to what  _ he  _ wanted. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense. 

What more could you do? 

You frowned. 

“Let's make a deal.” The words left your mouth before you could contemplate them. And when you realized what exactly had left your lips, you knew  _ immediately  _ by his expression alone that you could not take it back. The air felt a lot  _ heavier,  _ sudden nausea crawling up your gut. 

You and your loud ass mouth. Again. You should really put tape over it. 

He hummed in contemplation. He did that a lot, you noticed. He always wanted to let you know he was thinking, if it were not already obvious from his exceedingly flamboyant body language. 

“This would include…?” At last, he put the broom down to the side.

Now that you had no choice in the matter, you began to think long and hard. Upon realizing that there was literally nothing you could do to get him to leave you alone without giving him something  _ he  _ wanted, your shoulders slumped. 

“I let you have a single day of doing whatever you want to  _ try _ to…” Ugh, you couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. “... _ woo me over _ .” You made a face akin your disgust. “After that, I get to be  _ alone _ . I don’t want you to interact with me. No shadows. No hoodoo voodoo stuff.” You wiggled your fingers to clarify that part. His eyes pinched in amusement. 

When he opened his mouth to say something, you held up a finger. 

“And when you  _ do  _ leave me alone, I want you to do something  _ else  _ with your time.” You didn’t care what it was. You just wanted him to do it away from you. 

He placed his hand in front of you so fast that you staggered back, green light suddenly swirling around him. Such a display caused all the stray dust to filter about you both. “It’s a deal, then.” His grin was as wicked and corrupt as his very soul. 

You hesitated. 

You stared at his hand, your stomach uncomfortably flopping around. You felt like this was the worst idea you had ever made. You were going to regret this, somehow. How? You weren’t sure. You guessed it was because you would be forced to spend time with him. And then you placed your hand in his. “... Deal.” 

His claws wrapped around your hand, even with the light touch they were dangerously sharp, threatening to cut into your skin. The pads of his fingers were cold, only seeming to accentuate the strange green light that acted like ribbons spiraling outwards from the deal being made. 

The sparks that fell from his touch quickly fizzled out as more light consumed your hand in his, briefly making you shut your eyes from the brightness. A dramatic flash fell over your closed eyelids, and then, just as suddenly, it was over.

His grin turned into a smug one as he pulled his hand away from yours, brushing down his tailored suit jacket.

You squinted at him, “Why are you smiling like that?” You had a right to be suspicious.

His grin only grew. “Oh, no reason, sweetheart. I’m off now!” 

You watched him turn a corner and disappear. You looked down to your hand. It  _ looked _ normal. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. A burn? A sigil? 

You sighed.

When you made a deal with the devil, you should have known to ensure there were no loopholes, you should have known to specify for how  _ long _ . And yet, in your mind, on such a timed and tense moment, you felt you had done everything right.

So why did it also feel like you had just made the biggest mistake of your existence?


	33. You Spilled Lipstick In My Valentino White Bag!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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The lobby had been left in a long, drawn out silence. The retreating sound of dress shoes that clicked down the hallway reminded you that he would soon disappear completely from auditory senses, too. He had already done so from your sight. You wished he would disappear from your mind. A heavy sigh fell from you.

You did that a lot, you noticed. It was his fault, you decided.

The creaking of the floorboards, the low volume of a shrill, mock-up sham of the News channel, and the crackling of the fireplace were your only company— the only assemblage you sought to aid in your rampaging thoughts. 

Your breathing had grown shallow, almost nervous upon the realization of the dread that crept in such a sleuthful manner upon your spine; your fingers curled and rubbed together in an anxious manner. Your gaze remained pinpointed down the long hallway that the deal-maker had disappeared down; and you found yourself biting your bottom lip. 

You were just being paranoid. 

You needed to focus on something else, something other than the possibility that you had made the worst mistake of your life for reasons that remained wholly unknown. Perhaps it was because you knew that it had been a last resort; that making a deal with him would have consequences you could not have known even if you had tried. 

Something that would pry your attention away and hold it. 

You flopped down onto the couch with a huff, bringing an arm to lay horizontally across your face, and ultimately, your eyes. While Alastor’s stupidity reigned supreme on the topic of  _ romance,  _ you weren’t entirely all that bright when it came to making decisions that could have had drastic outcomes on your life. 

Of course; you wouldn’t have even considered doing such a thing if it hadn’t been a last measure. 

Now that he had taken up his side of the bargain; he would have to stick by it. You wouldn’t lie and say that the intensity in which he had accepted such a thing hadn’t thrown you off in ways that you could not have explained. In ways that should have been exceedingly clear in which you shouldn’t  _ have gone through with it.  _

But you had. 

And now you were forced to give him a single day. A whole twenty-four hours. Though, opposed to everything else he could have asked of you; he had allowed you to make the terms of his service. While he had not manipulated you in his actions nor words in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like something was  _ off.  _ A puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. 

There were two sides to each coin, you supposed.

But you were not experienced in the practice of deal making; and you never wanted to be. Did you trust that he would actually leave you alone after all was said and done? 

_ Absolutely not. _

Did you hope that he would do his part, though? You did. You did not want to spend an eternity down here being chased around by someone who wasn’t quite right in their head. Surely, if you were, you would go insane. You were determined to steer clear of that path. 

It was ridiculous how far he had gone; how far he was still  _ willing  _ to go. If he liked the  _ chase,  _ you would hand him what he wanted on a silver platter. After that was said and done, for your own sake, you had the intention of making sure he would let whatever fascination he had with you just… die. 

Except. 

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of it all actually stopping and ending made you as wholly uncomfortable as it did with the possibility of it continuing. 

You were tired of how unhinged he became when it came to you, how he was so utterly caught up in a spiral of pride, self-interest, and the egotistical idea that he would eventually get what he wanted. It pissed you off to no end, yes, but it also felt… weird to think that it could actually  _ stop _ . 

Without you being aware, the chase had attached itself to your existence.

It had made its presence known by the existential dread you felt each morning when you awoke. By the feeling of the static lapping at your skin when he was in the vicinity. By the thought of him alone and the plethora of different emotions of discomfort, anxiousness, and something  _ else  _ you couldn’t quite place— that, or you didn’t  _ want  _ to. You were unsure what would happen if he  _ had  _ let up his assault of your attention; who you would be. 

You had built yourself up by the experiences he had forced upon you; the fresh slate that your amnesia had given you dirtied beyond repair. Each time he knocked you down; made you spiral into a fit of rage, disbelief, or embarrassment, you built yourself up stronger. You no longer allowed him to push you around so easily— you could dish it back; and for the briefest of moments, you felt proud of yourself that you had showed him you  _ could.  _

It was hard to imagine an existence without him at this point, as much as you despised yourself for thinking such a thing. It wasn’t a case of whether you  _ wanted _ to or not, it was a case of reality hitting you smack in the face. Like the hotel in its entirety; the innumerable rooms you cleaned on the daily, the residents you had come to befriend, the experiences you had shared and had yet to encounter, Alastor was a constant in your life.

So what would happen if that was gone? What would happen if he actually  _ stopped?  _ Would you be able to recognize yourself? Would you have to shed what you had become simply based on what he had carved you out to be?

Your expression had twisted into a frown despite the darkness that clouded your vision from the arm that rested over your face. Your actions had become reckless, thoughts wild and messy; he had driven you up the wall more times than you could count, more times than you had the energy to even  _ comprehend.  _ The longer you remained in a state of idle rest, your mind as loud and intruding as if you were in his presence again. 

Your discomfort had grown when you began to ponder on the reasons why you even  _ bothered.  _ Bothered to think of him in general, how he invaded your mind like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t escape him. No matter how much you distanced yourself— hell, he had even  _ pointed  _ it out that you had been the one to ruminate on the kiss. 

Your chest clenched in uncertainty as a sensation of pleasant warmth and nervousness swept through you. You removed your arm from your face and brought your hand down to trace your fingertips across your bottom lip. Upon doing so, the sensation alone was enough to cause you to stiffen.  _ No.  _ Absolutely fucking not. You refused to believe that you had actually…  _ liked it. _

You had told him no. You didn’t want it. He had done it anyway— you were  _ angry  _ at him, so why the  _ fuck  _ couldn’t you get it out of your mind? Oh, he was manipulating your thoughts through his voodoo or something, he  _ had  _ to be. There was no way. You couldn’t have liked it, couldn’t have liked the coolness of his monocle against your cheek, the way his hair tickled your face, the way his chapped, inexperienced lips pressed against your own gently. 

_ Time to turn those thoughts off. _

Think about something else, anything else, not the fact that he genuinely appeared excited and happy to see you; not the fact that when he talked about you his face would adopt a deeper shade; how you didn’t fear him because he didn’t want to  _ scare you  _ anymore. You gripped a couch pillow roughly and threw it behind you in a fit of annoyance, confusion, and anxiety, uncaring that it landed on the floor. Think about something else. 

Someone else. 

Okay, who was in the hotel? Niffty was an excitable little woman; though, you felt guilty for not keeping up with her lately. Truth be told, with how utterly swift she was in her movements, it was hard to catch up to  _ and  _ with her, at all. Vaggie was easier, but she generally only helped you with… him, at least so far. You hoped to get on a better standing with her, though, you didn’t really  _ try.  _

Maybe you should. If she dated Charlie, then she was good in your book.

Charlie was… Charlie. She was kind, a bit too energetic at times, but she had been with you since day one— she had been your first real friend; and you found yourself wanting to make it up to her. In what manner, you weren’t entirely sure. Money could only get you so far; and even then, you didn’t want to believe that would buy you respect in her book. Friendships weren’t built off of materialistic items, and, though you were entirely certain that relationships down here  _ didn’t  _ follow those rules, you were sure Charlie did. 

One individual you hadn’t thought about was the arachnid that you had attempted to befriend. You weren’t sure if you had even succeeded in making a dent in his thoughts, but you hoped it did somewhat. You reminded yourself that these individuals were down here a lot longer than you had been. Had it already been an eternity for them? Had they lost track? Would  _ you  _ lose track? 

You released a heavy sigh. 

Your relationship with Husk had improved, too. It was odd not to see him behind the counter of the bar-- you wondered where he was, though, you didn’t blame him if he needed a day out of the walls of this constricting building; you wished you had such an opportunity. The drunkard was so utterly gruff around the edges, truly, a husk of someone he had been in a previous time; but he had been a real source of strength and comfort for you.

He was supportive in his own pissed off, slothful way. 

  
  


Upon discovering your newly-realized thoughts and emotions that rampaged around your mind, you had also come to terms with the fact that there was something uncomfortable underneath you. Unraveling the arm from upon your face with a groan, you searched and pulled your phone out. It was warm from retaining such close contact with you; and you stared at it for a long moment.

Phone. Phone… you squinted your eyes and peered at yourself in the dark voided reflection. Oh fuck, Loona. You pushed yourself up, unlocked the screen, and immediately hesitated over the contact of ‘Avocado Salad Teen’. You wondered why she hadn’t texted you with updates; and it caused a sensation of anxiety to crawl up your spine. What if it  _ had  _ been a scam? What if--

The sound of heels clacking into the lobby made your attention falter— you knew it wasn’t Alastor simply by the sound the them hitting the ground. How sad that you had picked up subtle details like that. Angel Dust adorned his usual attire; thrown together in a disheveled, uncaring way that  _ immediately  _ caused you to feel concerned. His usual combed, fluffed up furs were twisted together in an unusual manner. Upon noticing your gaze upon him, he paused mid-step. 

“What?” 

You blinked, cleared your throat, and peeled yourself off of the couch. “Nothing.” Quick, make up an excuse. Your gaze flickered over to the grandfather clock just in  _ time,  _ before looking back over to the arachnid who couldn’t be bothered to even cross his arms. They hung at his sides. “You’re up early?” Your tone wavered between inquisitiveness and uncertainty. Your fingertips hovered over the screen of your phone. That could wait for now. 

“ _ So?” _ He sneered.

Wow, okay, you grump. You shrugged, deciding that it would probably be best to shut your mouth while you still could. The moment you began to think of a way to reach out to Loona, a loud chime caught your attention. 

You craned your head over your shoulder to look at the door, in which the lilted bell had gone off. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion— it was a  _ hotel,  _ you didn’t need to… ring a bell. As you peered over to Angel in order to get more insight, you noted the stiffened, uncomfortable pose he found himself in before he cursed under his breath, and stalked towards the door. 

You placed your phone in your back pocket. 

His gloved hand curled around the handle and yanked it open without hesitance, and, with curiosity plaguing your mind, you followed after him. This time, however, you remained a few paces behind him. He was in a… mood for some reason, and you really didn’t want to be in the crossfire. However, whatever you had been expecting wasn’t what you discovered. At the foot of the door, a black box tied elegantly together with a pink bow. 

You looked out, the dust fading down the road and revealing the tail end of a limousine. Before you were able to inquire about it and break the stalemate of silence, Angel bent down and gripped it in his hands in an irritated manner. Closing the door with another hand, his expression said more than you could collect. You knew that look because you made it _yourself_ more times than you could count. Uncomfortable and irritated. 

He turned and brushed past you harshly. 

“Hey, watch it!” You snapped— you were in a bad mood too, and  _ you _ didn’t take it out of the residents. At least, not from what you could remember. He didn’t offer you a response at first, didn’t even bother to investigate the box further before he paused, spun on his heel, held it out with his upper appendages. 

He dropped it into your grasp. 

You caught it lest it collide with the ground. You reaffirmed your grip, and held it with a surprised look. You blinked owlishly. 

He stared down at you with a grim expression. “Ya gonna ask or are ya tongue tied?” He crossed his arms at last. He appeared in a state of discomfort and annoyance; but with a heavy exhale, he let up his original anger. It didn’t concern you, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a pain in his ass, too. You were painfully friendly towards him— and he didn’t like feeling the effects of friendship. Friendships never ended well for a fella like himself. He had learned that the hard way. 

And now he would have the last laugh. 

Despite the better judgement of just turning away and placing it somewhere else, you couldn’t help but question it. “What is it?” You peered around the casing, but no such answers were found. All you knew was that it felt light. Long, thin. Hell, the box even looked expensive.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and in another display of his sudden odd behavior, he remained silent. No, he hadn’t even tried to take a jab at you, even if what you presumed to be a serious moment. Perhaps because it was serious to  _ him.  _ You noticed how utterly  _ exhausted  _ he looked; which was weird. Everything was weird, honestly. 

You didn’t like this. 

You frowned up at him, and the moment you were about to open your mouth, he fluffed his cleavage in what you supposed was an anxious notion, before he smoothed his hair with a gloved hand. He looked a lot more like the Angel Dust you knew, at long last, but something was still  _ off.  _ You had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with what was in your hands at that moment. 

You glanced down at it again warily.

“Come on.” He didn’t explain what was about to occur, and you were able to question it as your form was immediately ushered down the long, twisting maze of a hallway. The moment the two of you had stepped foot on the carpeted foundation, you noted how the arachnid had stiffened considerably. With your shorter legs, you found it difficult to keep up with his rushed pace; you had to run at times. You were getting fed up quickly. 

  
  


“Where are we—“ You tried to question what the fuck was going on, and he immediately shushed you by slapping a gloved hand over your mouth. You paused in your step, and he glared down at you before continuing on. 

“Shaddup! Shut the fuck  _ up.”  _ He peered around him; his fur appearing more fluffed up than usual; similar to a defensive mechanism.

And then, like a freight train, the realization that this was the exact hallway Alastor had gone down, it came to light. At least, the majority of his odd mannerisms. He was attempting to keep you hidden from him— you were amused, and you felt your annoyance falter. Perhaps even a bit endeared in the big picture; though, you wanted to tell him that he was a bit… late to the party. 

You decided not to.

Eventually, the large mahogany door that framed each room greeted you. He paused in front of it and you, lost in your thoughts once more, you slammed directly into his back. He grunted and looked down at you with a glare and you offered him a quick ‘sorry’ and a smile of appeasement. 

He rolled his eyes and, with a heavy sigh in an effort that reminded you of someone preparing for something, he let himself in. The first thing you did, however, was not immediately follow him in, but remain paused in the doorway. Your lips had parted in a mixture of surprise and awe. 

There were boxes  _ everywhere.  _ In the corners of the room, on the bedside table, boxes inside the walk-in closet. There were not moving boxes or anything of the sort, no, they were the same replicated box that you were holding in a different assortment of lengths, heights, and widths.

_ What the fuck?  _

Angel Dust had begun to sort through drawers, throwing things behind his back carelessly—dildos, ropes, other sexual toys, papers, trash—and you couldn’t help but feel your face grow warm at the sight of some of the particularly lewd ones. No, you hadn’t forgotten he had been a porn star, it was particularly difficult to considering how utterly flamboyant and extra he was. You didn’t see him as that, though, you saw him as a friend. 

Even if he didn’t.

He looked back at you with a sneer. “Ya wanna try s’mthin?”

_ That  _ made your face light up in a shade that was reminiscent of a tomato. “No!” It came out louder than you wanted. You winced at your volume. “ _ No _ .” 

He huffed. “Then what the fuck are ya still standin’ in the doorway for? Ain’t nothin ya ain’t seen before, babe!” Well, except for the boxes. Oh. That’s right.

Nevertheless, you stepped in and closed the door behind you. Fat Nuggets had been curled into a ball on the bed, sleeping, but when you did such, he woke up and started oinking for your attention. You sighed tiredly, but happily. The pig was the only motherfucker that understood you.

“Hey bud,” you walked over to him and smiled gently. Alright, listen, you loved the pig, okay? It was always so happy to see you, and you felt the same way. It pranced around the top of the luxurious bed, stumbling here and there around the quilt.

You sat on top, your legs crossed. The ‘swine’ nudged your arm as forced you to lift it. In record timing he snuggled onto your lap, settled in, and promptly fell asleep. You stared down at the now snoring creature. You were legally unable to move now, lest you disturb him.

You placed the box beside you gingerly.

Angel continued to throw random things around, using his extra appendages to help in aiding him absolutely destroying his space. When you were about to open your mouth to inquire, he gasped and held up a piece of paper. He destroyed his room for a… note. He tore the covering off with his teeth and pulled it out, frantically reading over the note. Had he been waiting for you to be there to read the note? 

You remained in silence, said silence so odd now that the rustling didn’t aid in background noise. The longer he read, the more pissed off his expression got until he was wholly unrecognizable. He crumpled the letter in his grip, tightly, before throwing it in a small trash bin that had already been overwhelmed with countless pieces of merchandise and careless items. Things he didn’t care about. Things he didn’t want to see again. 

Thing that he thought were  _ trash.  _

The moment he turned and strolled over to you, you stared in utter confusion at him. “Angel—“ 

“Just fuckin’ open the box first.” He interrupted. 

You let out a huff. He seemed anxious, irritated. Your attention fell to the box and began to unravel it from its holding. Upon releasing the covering and pink bow, you had come to the conclusion that whoever had sent it had been  _ exceedingly  _ wealthy. Neatly situated in the center; a golden rose. 

You took it out of the box, setting said casing aside once more and turned it around, careful of the thorns that hadn’t been trimmed off. You bit your lip in uncertainty, awe, and pure, uncut confusion. 

“Who sent it?” You touched the petals, and in doing so, almost expected it to die. Because that’s the exact bullshit you had come to expect down here; especially after that last bouquet. You turned your attention to the many boxes on the floor. “...Them?” Your tone was wary. 

He remained silent. 

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitted. You hadn’t noticed at first, didn’t figure out that he was on the verge of breaking down until he spun away from you, and stalked forth and fro. He held a gloved hand to his mouth, another on the curvature of his mid-back, the other two clenched into fists. 

_ What the fuck was going on?  _

Never in your life had you ever been more confused. 

“...Angel?” Your voice was soft, but had a tone of taking-no-bullshit, simply because you had grown so weary of doing just that’s 

He stopped in a frozen, stiffened position; almost as if he had forgotten you were there for the briefest of moments. Your fingertips twitched around the rose, your mind attempting to find a method in the madness; just as he started to laugh. It wasn’t in a humorous way, no. It was mocking,  _ angry,  _ emotional. You had never seen him that way, you were certain you never wanted to again. 

You found yourself uncertain of how to proceed. How to get the answers you so desperately needed to offer your  _ help.  _ Though, perhaps in the deepest recesses of his mind, your company was enough. You could almost hear what he was thinking simply by how loud his thoughts were; expressed through body language.

He began to mutter under his breath, yourself unable to make anything legible out. When he  _ did  _ speak, however, you jumped at the sudden intensity in volume. 

“I mean,  _ REALLY!?” _ He yelled as he threw his first set of arms up in exasperation. You stared bugily at him. 

“I told ‘im that I don’t want any of this stuff, but Big Vee does it anyway because he does whateva’ the hell he wants! And now—“ he laughed in a disbelieving tone. 

Did he bring you here to…confide in you? You weren’t entirely sure. Needless to say, you allowed him to express his deepest emotions that he harbored— the fact that he very well may have been offering you a sense of vulnerability in this moment was, selfishly, more than you could ever ask for. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, however. You learned not to do it the hard way. 

And now you lived with the consequences.

You couldn’t help but wonder when he had received all of those boxes, though. You guessed it had to have been in the timespan you had been gone. You felt for him, truly. 

“Now he’s tryna win me back because I’m flawless and  _ everyone  _ wants a piece of me.” He scoffed in a prideful manner. “Why wouldn’t he? Ya know, the only reason Vee gets his junk sucked is because we gotta keep the big boss happy.” He sneered. 

Angel Dust turned to you then. “I know ya got problems with Smiles’n’all, but at least ya don’t gotta put up with someone like  _ Val.”  _ You narrowed your eyes. You found it impossible for someone to  _ possibly _ be worse than Alastor. But with Angel Dust’s distressed look and his lack of pride in himself in that moment, you wondered if this individual could actually be.

Alastor didn’t have a hand in your life like Valentino did with him, and with his understanding of the abusive pimp, Valentino had reached into his existence and taken an iron hold— the separation so much more difficult and  _ painful  _ than it should have been. Of course, the dickwad had connections, but he did  _ too.  _

His family, those that he had estranged from with his own decision, were powerful. A web of crimes exceptionally played out by wicked and gnarled minds. There were more than a few reasons coming from that statement alone for Valentino to attempt to keep his hand in the pot. 

“‘N he’s always givin’ me shit for every little thing I do, even when I do gigs for his lazy ass!” His arms had extending from his side in exasperation, his voice cracked. “He’s always tellin’ me that I gotta ‘stay at the studio’ because I’m his  _ Angel Cakes _ and he wouldn’t know what to do if I got hurt.” His voice had taken up an emotional, mocking one. 

You listened in stunned silence.

“Well, ya know what!? I ain’t his Angel Cakes no more! I don’t need’a pimp for protection! I can protect my own damn self— I use ‘em ‘ta help me get jobs, because it ain’t easy makin’ a livin’ down here, toots! Everyone’s fuckin’ on every corner,” he moved towards you and poked a finger to your chest. You looked up at him with parted lips, eyes wide and alight with an intensity that you hadn’t known your could have harbored.

“Ya gotta be  _ good _ to do what I do.” There was some semblance of pride in that last statement, and you nodded. It was all you could do in that moment. 

He had gotten there on his own  _ for the most part, _ carved out his own damn eternity all because he had a talent that so few demons possessed at his level of expertise of pleasure. That didn’t mean he had always felt great afterwards, no, he had to learn to enjoy what he did. He had to embrace his own sexuality and enjoyment in the process, he had to become Angel Dust not because he wanted to, but because he  _ had to. _

Hell wasn’t a fuckin’ cake walk. 

He huffed out and tore his hand away from you, appearing alarmed and wholly uncomfortable with the realization that not only had he broke character, but how he had just spilled the beans to  _ you.  _ He looked like he’s holding back from saying more, and when you were about to say something, he slumped his shoulders with a sigh. 

“Hold yer tongue, I ain’t needin’ any of it.” He strolled over to the other side of his bed and fell into it. He wouldn’t take sympathy from anyone. When he had been alive, he hadn’t allowed Molly to, either. There was no fucking way he would accept sympathy from you.

The luxurious pillows and quilt took the blow as he stared at the ceiling, one of his legs dangled off of the bed. It bounced in a show of frustration and anxiousness in an action reminiscent of the prior time he had been in a hauntingly similar situation with you. 

Fat Nuggets woke up then, wiggled out of your grip and waddled over to Angel. Said arachnid patted the pig idly even as he curled up against his side. You weren’t sure what to say. If he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, then what more could you do? You frowned.

Perhaps.

“...I made a deal with  _ him _ .” You bluntly stated. Because now you were sharing secrets, right? “To get him to leave me alone.”

Angel's eyes snapped to you, forgetting the current tormentor in his mind when he heard your words, face suddenly appalled. With a trembling hand, he slapped himself.  _ Hard _ . Now that he was aware he was fully conscious and not dreaming, he brought his boot up and kicked you off the bed. Not quite as hard, but enough to put you in shock. 

You gasped as you flew forward, the sudden forced on your back caused you to grab at the air desperately as you tried to regain your footing. “WHA—“

He pulled away with a frown, emotions raging war upon his features before he stood up, marched around the bed, grabbed your shoulders and shook you violently. "Are ya OUT of ya MIND?!"

“ _ NO _ , I’m not! Angel,  _ stop it _ !” You attempted to grasp at his gloved hands and pull them off of you just so he would stop shaking you so violently. You were going to get whiplash at this point. 

He swatted your hand away and continued to shake you, all the while yelling at you. “The FUCK do ya think yer doin!?” Those were the last words he ever expected to hear come out of your mouth, he had really hoped you weren’t that  _ fucking stupid.  _ He wasn’t exactly surprised in the sense that you would never make a dumb mistake— but one of that caliber? 

“WILL YOU  _ LISTEN _ TO ME!?” You yelled in exasperation. He stopped, a loud scoff escaped his gritted teeth. You brought your thumb and index finger to the bridge of your nose and released a heavy sigh. “I didn’t have a choice! There wasn’t anything else I could do— he won’t leave me  _ alone!  _ He told me he wouldn’t leave me alone. Ever! I had to make the deal so he  _ would.” _

He hadn’t even tried to hide his expression of disbelief, anger, and extreme bouts of disappointment in that moment. “Yer a fuckin’ dumbass is what ya are!” He sneered. He hit you upside the head. All that was running through his head were his own regrets, his own dumb ass mistakes that he had made when he got down here, and the choices he had made to get himself here.

You winced with a frown. “It’s not my fault!”

He looked at you like you were a dipshit.

“ _ Yeah it is.  _ Ya never make a deal with such an asshole!” He had been stupid once too, he hade a deal with someone, hadn’t thought too much about, thought it would be the only way he would be able to survive down here. Because what you did in Hell right? Make shitty deals with shitty demons and hope that it all turned out alright. 

That you wouldn’t get caught up in the next extermination, that you would actually be able to spend the eternity you were damned to. Angel took a deep breath, because he knew better. Of course he knew better— he had lived through it; made the same stupid choices you did. He had tried to distance himself from you for that very reason. He had been as open as you had been, perhaps a bit less naive, but nevertheless all it had done was give him a few black eyes and multiple kicks to the ass.

He didn’t  _ want  _ to feel sympathy for anyone that had found themselves in a similar situation, because not only had he come so far, made something of himself, but he had done it  _ alone.  _ It took grit, determination, and a helluva of sacrifices of someone he had long forgotten. He had come a long way from the boy who had overdosed on phencyclidine, he had hidden parts of himself so that he wouldn’t be taken advantage of. 

He hated thinking about this stupid shit.

He was past this, he was  _ better _ than this. But despite every part of him that loathed to admit it, he didn’t want to see you make the same mistakes. He was kind of, sorta, not your friend, but an  _ acquaintance.  _ Yeah. 

Acquaintances could talk about this stuff. 

“Listen to me.” He placed his top set of hands on your shoulders again. You winced as you waited for the moment to be shaken again. He didn’t, much to your relief. You held his gaze, searching for any type of explanation of what was going on or any method to this disastrous action you would have to now go through with.

“I ain’t always been the person ya see today; I got into shady business brought on by those I met. I made some shitty mistakes when I got down ‘ere that could’a-  _ would’a  _ killed me if—“ He shook his head with a frown. 

“If ya keep this kinda shit up, yer gonna get fuckin’  _ smited,  _ y’hear?” He didn’t leave room for disagreement, continuing on. This ain’t yer home on Earth, toots, it’s fuckin’ dangerous. If ya make one stupid move, and I’m  _ sure _ ya will because yer  _ you _ , it’s gonna be over for ya. Capiche?” He pointed at you with a spare hand. 

Unlike you, he actually had demons and connections who would watch his back— despite him nearly always having a target on him. It came with the fame, he supposed. Despite being detached from his actual family; his sister who had somehow managed to find her way alongside the choir of angels that harked the good news, they had saved his ass more than once. 

In some ways, you reminded him of his sister. The girl who tried her best and always got the short end of the stick because of it. A sensation of discomfort flooded his veins and upon coming to the realization that his nails had begun to dig into your shoulders, he retracted his hands. 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

He would deal with those thoughts later— or perhaps never again if he was lucky. Right now he needed to deal with your bullshittery. 

You had grown nervous, the time that he had spent in his thoughts, you had done the same. You wanted to tell him that it would be okay, you wanted to ensure that everything would go as planned and smoothly, but you  _ couldn’t.  _

The stalemate ended when a loud knock was heard from the lobby; faded from the distance, but loud enough to meet your ears. The two of you shared a glance, immediately coming to the same thought process of whether or not this ‘Val’ had sent another gift. Angel’s expression soured, and you offered an encouraging motion, just as you stepped out of the way. 

The knocking is odd,  _ off.  _ It was loud, obnoxious, painfully persistent and not a run and go like the other innumerable presents had been. It didn’t stop, and by the time the two of you actually reached the door, you had grown anxious. There were silhouettes on the outside of the stained glass windows, and your heart picked up in pace. 

Angel pulled the door open, already ready to pummel whoever the fuck it was. “Are ya fuckin’  _ stupid?  _ Can ya not read the sign? It’s a hotel, just fuckin’  _ walk in!”  _ The individuals that met your gaze, however, once you realize that this wasn’t an assassination, were the last ones you had expected to arrive at your door. 

The Imps.

You staggered back as Blitzø roughly pushed forward a masculine form you did not recognize in the slightest, battered, bruised, worn out. A human, or a demon that looked eerily similar to that of a human; more so than you. His mouth was held in a gag made out of a rag, his arms held together with glowing, orange chains that the head boss held in a foster grip. The rest of the guests welcomed themselves in, Blitzø first, then Moxxie, and then Millie. 

“My apologies ma—“ Moxxie started, only to be whispered to by Millie. They were both staring up at Angel Dust who looked offended, as if internally finishing the sentence for them. He crossed his arms. “—S-Sir! Sir.” They looked at each other and then peered to you. 

Your attention, however, was pulled towards Blitzø and the unknown individual. Whoever it was had an extremely modern style of clothing; sporting a band logo upon his ripped hoodie; ripped jeans. The whole attire for someone that came off as an attention seeker. 

“Who the fuck are ya’ll?” Angel spoke you again, and it occurred to you that he wasn’t aware of why there were imps in the lobby to begin with. He hadn’t known where you had went. Made sense, you supposed. 

Moxxie fixed his tie that he had worn for such a special occasion and began: “We’re the Immediate Murder Professionals; and this is our client.” He pointed to you. 

“You live too fucking far, you know. I was almost expecting you to live in a  _ dump. _ Then again,” Blitzø brought a claw to his beak, tapping it as he shot you a pissy, annoyed, smug grin. “I was still right in that regard, wasn’t I?” 

You narrowed your eyes. Moxxie nearly appeared as if he were going to go apeshit over the fact that his boss was so rude. “Ma'am, please don’t listen to our boss, he’s a bit grumpy over having to drive here for soMEONE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE SERVING!” 

“Moxx! He’s our boss, don’t talk to him like that!” 

“Millie, this—“ He was cut off.

“ Anyways ,” Blitzø rudely cut in and pushed the hostage in your direction.

“_This is the douche that murdered you.”_


	34. What The Fuck Is Up, Kyle!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come join us here on our 18+ Discord!: https://discord.gg/BxEf67k

Everything in that moment: every particle, every atom in your body; perhaps even time _ itself_, had stopped. 

It was true, Hell wasn’t a walk in the park, nor would it ever be something you would get used to. You could prepare and engage in all of the things that would give you an upper hand, but you would never know what would come next. 

Everything that could have prepared you for your response, your questioning of their sudden appearance, fled from your lips the moment the words were uttered.

Out of all the things you could have possibly prepared for, _ that _was not one of them. 

The resounding vicinity had fallen into a long, drawn out silence. Your body stiffened; muscles straining to keep perfectly still lest you collapse right then and there. You found comfort in Angel’s presence; for if he hadn’t been there, you were entirely sure you would have fallen into a pit of no return. 

You focused on the surrounding sounds that filled the room in ambience: the clicking of the grandfather clock, the low volume of the television, your steadying breath as you reigned it in. Your mouth felt dry, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at the hostage.

_ Your supposed murderer. _

He stared at you with a burning intensity; his own expression grim and perhaps even a bit disbelieving-- almost as if he had seen a _ ghost. _He recognized you, and the discomfort that radiated off of you in that moment could have very well suffocated the individuals surrounding you. 

Your eyes scanned his face, as you attempted to find something to recognize _ him_, but your efforts returned fruitless. He appeared to be around your age, at the very least. 

Though, the cuts and bruises that marked him up made it far more difficult to make out specific details.

From the distance between the two of you, you assumed he was of average height. He adorned a camouflage jacket, a dark tee, ripped jeans, and a pair of beat up sneakers. Dark hair, dark eyes— or perhaps that was only because of the bruises that had developed around them. It was obvious that he had put up a fight. With the orange semi-translucent chains that connected his wrists together through cuffs which led to Blitzo, it was apparent that he had not won.

If he had, he would not have been in front of you. 

You couldn’t help but wonder how they had found him, though. You hadn’t explicitly told them to find your murderer, no, you had told them to investigate your past while also finding out _ who _ killed you. Now that you had a face to, well… not a _ name_, you could start somewhere. If they had done what was asked of them, then the person that stood in front of you had not only forced you into succumb to an eternity in Hell, but he had also ended your life too early. 

But who were you to say that he had been the one to actually do it? You wanted to find out how they found him; because not only had they done it in an amount of time that staggered you, but you had not provided them with a lot of information to begin with. 

You narrowed your eyes. 

Breaking the stalemate, you parted from Angel’s side and motioned towards the couches and chairs, just before you sat down. 

You watched as Moxxie and Millie remained close to each other on the couch that mirrored the one you currently took up residence on. Blitzø pulled up a chair, uncaring for the screeching the legs made as it dragged, and pushed the suspected murderer harshly into it. The chair wobbled for a moment, threatening to fall back, but eventually the stranger gained enough balance on it to right himself.

Blitzø stood between him and his employees. 

Angel, however, had silently decided that now would be the _ only _ time he would offer you his support, and sat next to you. Still, the room remained vacant of speech, until the sound of approaching light, airy, _ friendly _footsteps came down the hall. You didn’t peer over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions of who it was, unable to tear your eyes off of the elephant in the room.

“Welcome—” Charlie spoke up, only to cut herself off when she realized who exactly had come to her humble abode. The sound of approaching shoes paused. You could feel her eyes burning into your neck after a moment, and you let out a soft sigh. She got the memo quickly.

“I’ll… go make some tea and grab some treats.” She trailed off, whisking herself off to make her way through the swinging doors of the kitchen. 

The moment she did, though, Blitzø groaned. Loudly. He looked over to the clock with an annoyed expression; he didn’t… necessarily have meetings to attend to because business was hard to come by, but it had taken _ forever _to find this asshole for you; and now Charlotte wanted to pussyfoot around with tea and crumpets. Moxxie and Millie, however, had adopted an endeared expression; touched by the thoughtfulness of the founder of the hotel. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Sir, don’t you think we should tell her what we found?” Moxxie broke the silence at long last, and in doing so, freed you from your uncomfortable locked gaze with the offender. 

Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Moxxie, _ I’m _ the boss here. Don’t you think we should tell her what we found?” 

“T-that’s what I just—” The more polite imp responded, before sighing. It wouldn’t be worth the effort. He didn’t get paid enough. Millie attempted to appease her husband by placing a kiss on his cheek.

“This,” The ‘boss’ motioned towards the supposed killer, “Is your killer. The one that _ killed _ you, alright? _ He _ has the answers, not us.” Blitzø quickly stated, annoyance thinly veiled. He was tired from the car ride and had a shitty killer who had eaten all his snacks during it. What an asshole.

“But I paid _ you _ to get me the answers, not for you to bring me my murderer. How do I even know he is who you say he is?” You replied, and the head imp stared at you, attempting to find the right words to say. It was only when he had been about to lose his patience and tell you to ask the fucking _ killer _yourself did he subconsciously glance to the corner of the room. 

You furrowed your brows and followed his gaze in which _ everyone _ followed. 

Before your eyes even settled on the perpetrator, the static that filled the room mentally prepared you for what you would see.

There Alastor stood. You could have mistaken him for a gargoyle with the way he remained so eerily still; entirely without the semblance or promise of movement. You couldn’t even see his chest move. It wasn’t like he needed to breathe anyway, but he appeared to be sucking all the air from the room with just how heavy and violent his gaze was. 

With the way that he targeted onto the supposed murderer, you could very nearly see all the wicked and cruel intentions that floated within the depths of his stare. You wondered how long he had been standing there, how much he knew; how much he had _ heard. _

His eyes were locked on the human, and you could have sworn that at his feet his shadow had multiplied. They turned into a viscous mist that moved about him like opaque smoke, threatening to swallow that portion of the hotel whole with its sheer intensity. 

He held his microphone before him like a cane, his hands crossed over the top. It briefly crossed your mind to wonder if he would use the instrument to beat the ever living shit out of man seated in the chair. You supposed it wouldn’t be that far off of the list of possibilities.

You had never seen the dapper dresser so withheld in his actions, so _ terrifying _ in his own element. Whatever doubt you had of him ever truly being a predator first and foremost faded out of existence in that moment. 

Though, it was a shame you knew about his tail because, without a doubt, it ruined how utterly petrifying he was. The moment it wiggled crossed your mind in a flash and brought you out of your reverie, reminded you he didn’t have to be such a scary fucker. 

You stared, shoulders slumped. _ For fucks sake. _ You turned to peer at the others, and you noted how anxious they all suddenly appeared. Too afraid to question his presence, the reasoning behind him being there.

When you stood up, Angel shot you a confused look because like hell you were going to leave him here with your shitty problems. A reasurring glance, and then, because you were the stupidest fucking person on the planet, you closed the distance between you and the only one that could stun a room into even further discomfortable silence.

He didn’t seem to care.

You knew you had traction when it came to situations like these; but you reminded yourself to not swan dive into a shark’s mouth. You still needed to remain on your toes, aware, searching for any sort of changes in behavior that you would need to get out of there immediately. “What are you doing? Why are you being creepy? Stop it.”

You paused in front of him.

“Your insults have little impact on me, darling.” He stated, continuing to stare at the seated individual behind you. “Besides, I’m not doing anything, I’m trying to plan his demise! Do continue on with your meeting, though. I’ll just be right over here, _ should you need me. _” At first, he had remained still while he addressed you, only his mouth moving in response to his words.

After he told you of his intentions, as if you weren’t already aware, as if anyone in the room had not been aware of the cruelties he was planning, his head dipped forward, eyes softening as they shifted focus onto you. With a subtle flick of his wrist he motioned for you to go back to your seat, to pay him no heed. 

As if he ever listened to you. 

You ignored his dismissal for you to rejoin them. “Don’t jump the gun, Alastor.” You muttered, “If you scare them, I might not get the answers I… _ need. _” 

“Oh, darling, rest assured!” His eyes snapped onto the potential murdering asswipe himself, and upon doing so, his expression morphed into a stern one. The shadows at his feet attempted to scale up the wall, as if it were trying to claw away from him. Indentations on the wallpaper were appearing as they did so in a way that should not have been physically possible. Then again, a _ lot _of things should not have been physically possible. 

_ “You will receive your answers, if it is the last thing this cretin ever does.” _

His voice became louder as it filled the room with its presence, dominating whatever mild, hushed conversation had begun to take place. Static clung heavily behind those words, Alastor’s physical form very well near glitching for the briefest of seconds; flashes of what you assumed to be his demon form— the real one at least, shifting into the present. 

You hesitated. _ That _was the warning you were searching for. 

Time to bail.

“From a scale of one to ten, you’re at a twelve and you need to be at a _ four_.” You hissed out, and turned back around. When you met the wide stares of the guests and even Angel himself, because how the fuck did you not just get smited? You released a heavy breath and closed the distance between them. 

“The fuck was that?” Blitzø spoke up bluntly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. He sneered at that, muttering under his breath in a bitter manner. Being an imp had more downsides than upsides; one of them being how they were ignored _ constantly. _

The fucking Radio Demon just threw a tantrum, and you weren’t even going to comment on it? A plethora of questions rattled around in his skull: Why was that creepy bastard even here in the first place? How the fuck did you just survive that? No, he couldn’t ask such questions, because he was an _ imp._ From the beginning of creation, a fucked up hierarchy system reigned supreme, and it made him one-hundred and ten percent bitter. 

You returned to seat yourself next to the effeminate arachnid again, and amidst the awkward silence because _ where do you even begin? _ You noticed that Blitzø began to steal glances not at _ you, _but Angel Dust. There was a moment before something clicked in his mind and his gaze brightened considerably. You furrowed your brows and peered up to Angel, who was now sneering at him.

“Hey, you, spider boy, you wanna have a quick fuck before the real business starts?” 

You choked on your breath.

“_SIR!” _Moxxie and Millie yelled out in exasperation. 

Angel blinked, completely unphased by the proposition before he crossed his arms. He leaned back against the couch, crossing all four of his arms over his chest. “Ya couldn’t afford me, suga’tits.”

Blitzø appeared smug, and adjusted his tie. “I don’t know, I recently came into some funds via our little mutual pal here.” He pointed to you and you balked. 

The arachnid scoffed. He had _ standards_. Like hell he would sleep with a fuckin’ _ imp. _He waved a gloved hand. “Whateva, ya fuckin’ con artist, shaddup would ya?”

“Suit yourself.” Blitzø shrugged as he attempted to appear uncaring. You could tell by his outward body language that he was disappointed, though. When Millie giggled, you peered over to them, only to find that Moxxie looked to be damn near a breaking point.

“_Sir, that is strictly unprofessional.” _He seethed.

“Moxx, relax!” Millie chimed, planting yet another kiss on his fuming face.

The sound of the kitchen door swinging open fizzled the intensity in the air slightly. You let out a heavy breath of relief. Charlie strolled over and placed a tray laden with tea and some leftover treats from the party. She glanced down at you in a mixture of concern and curiosity before taking station on the other side of you, successfully squishing you between the two demons. 

“Okay, so there’s news?” She inquired. 

Blitzø was immediately relieved. This meant they could get one step closer to getting the fuck out of here. He planted a heavy hand on the unnamed stranger’s shoulder, shoving him roughly. 

“Alright, you little asshole, tell ‘em what you told us.” 

The man looked at you, briefly, before his eyes drifted back to the corner, where you were positive Alastor was being himself. You know, a _ dick_. He nervously opened his mouth and spoke up, his eyes widened at whatever display Alastor was making. “I think, uh, that it might be better... if we just let them enjoy their tea first.” He let out a shaky breath of laughter, praying to all the gods he knew that he would be taken out of this awkward, potentially very dangerous, situation.

Instead of any God answering him, one foot moved forward, in doing so clicking on the floor. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you knew it probably was not pleasant. You didn’t know a person’s eyes could get that wide. The phrase, ‘wide as dinner plates’ crossed your mind as this young man's eyes came to take up half of his visage.

“_Alright! _ Alright, Whatever! I mean—” He was stumbling over his words, eyes locked on Alastor. “What… what do you want to know?” He was close to hyperventilating as his gaze snapped onto yours, pleading in a way. 

You narrowed your eyes. “_Everything._” 

He began to fidget, and Angel released a heavy breath. “This coward was the one that killed ya?” He elbowed you in the side before he leaned forward, bouncing his knee with a sharp sneer. “Yer _ pathetic.” _His face snapped into a serious one. 

You blinked up at him warily, before you turned to look back towards the unnamed stranger. He narrowed his eyes at Angel’s words and you found yourself stiffening. 

“I didn’t kill her on my terms.” He refused to look at you. He spoke about you as if you weren’t in the room. 

Angel released a guffaw. “So who’s terms then?” He unraveled his bottom set of arms and jabbed a finger at him. “Ya got some rag doll yer fuckin’ to get—“ 

“_Angel!” _Charlie snapped.

He turned to face her with an exasperated expression. “What!? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong!” He motioned towards himself, and in doing so, you leaned forward. 

“_Why?” _ You spoke up at long last. “How do you even _ know _ me? Was it just some random murder?” Everyone fell silent. Said asshole you were addressing sighed before taking a heavy breath, _ bracing _himself, and met your eyes. 

He stared for a long while, long enough for you to begin questioning internally whether or not you would ever get your answers. After he tore his gaze away, he peered down at his hand and, despite it being held together with cuffs, succeeding in having a bracelet slide down to his wrist. 

You wouldn’t have thought that such a measly thing would hold any greater importance, but when you focused your attention on it, a memory bubbled forth. 

It started playing like a reel within your mind. 

You and this stranger… No, not a stranger… You and _ your friend _were playing outside, hanging out at the side of your house in the driveway. It was an autumn afternoon, the leaves crunched under your feet as you both spoke in a manner that was amiable, more than friendly, similar as if he were your brother. 

“Come on, Kyle! You know that this is the only way to make sure we’re the bestest of best friends!”

You were young, you weren’t sure what age, but you and he couldn’t have been more than ten. You felt excited, giddy, and determined to get him to wear the bracelet you had made just for him. You had gotten a kit for making such things, and this task had been one you had taken on yourself, and it was important to you.

“But it’s _ pink! _That’s such a girl color!” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at you like you were teasing him. “What would my other friends say?” He kicked a stray basketball against the side of the house, making him look even huffier than he had been to begin with.

“You don’t _ have _ any other friends.” You knocked your shoulder into his, a sly smile on your young face. He responded with a frown and the narrowing of his eyes. 

Your face shifted immediately into a broad smile, large enough to make your eyes crinkle at the edges as you started to laugh. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” You giggled at how grumpy he looked, before you realized that he was actually a bit upset at your words. Perhaps you had been a bit too mean afterall. 

“Hey, Ky, who cares what they say? You have me! We’ve always been friends!” You moved closer to him, batting your eyelashes and softening your gaze. He was the same height as you, he had yet to have a growth spurt that would send him careening over you. Your hands drew together in front of you, and you clasped them together. “Pretty pleeeeease?” 

He had never been able to deny you before, and you remembered thinking that then should not have been any different. 

He sighed, knowing that he was going to end up with that stupid thing on his wrist anyway. He reached out a hand, letting you know he would accept it. You grinned and clapped a bit in your happiness. 

You grabbed his small wrist in your own equally small hand and slipped the pink band onto him yourself, ensuring that your friendship would last for your lifetime. 

You started clapping again, gleeful in your expression. “Now we’re the best of friends! Look, I even made a blue one for me!” You reached into your pocket and pulled out the blue band, handing it to him so he could look at it fully. He rolled his eyes, because of course you would want a blue one and force him to wear a pink one. You were always doing such silly things like that. 

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes and you can give it to me! Don’t worry,” You whispered playfully, “_ I’ll act like I didn’t know._”

He looked down at the bracelet and then back at you before nodding once. You shut your eyes, grinning and bouncing on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Suddenly, he was taking this little exchange much more seriously than he had before. He grabbed your hand carefully, and slid the matching band in the complementary color onto your own wrist. 

“You can open them.” He muttered, grabbing his arm nervously, very shy as you opened your eyes to look at the band you had made yourself.

You did just that.

You gasped, pretend shock coloring your voice. “You didn’t!” You exclaimed.

He smiled and nodded, shifting to rub the back of his neck with his hand. He hadn’t another friend who was like you. You were always so kind to him, and patient as well. “Yeah, now we can be bestest friends forever.” He replied, a blush coloring his cheeks. 

“Forever?” You blinked before you felt happiness flood through your little body. You pushed your hand into his chest, your pinky curling upwards. “Pinky promise?” Your eyes narrowed, a hint of suspicion in them. Pinky promises were reserved for top secret information only. The no-take-backsies type of promises. He looked down at your hand, before hooking his pinky around yours.

“Pinky _ swear_.” He assured you. He would swear to be your best friend, which was much more than a promise. 

The moment you had come back from the reverie of your memory, you found that your fingertips had gripped your pants harshly. Your eyes had grown glassy, emotion finding its way in your throat thickly. You glanced up, just as a singular rivulet of a tear rolled down your cheek. “We were friends.” You whispered in a disbelieving tone. Your eyebrows furrowed together. 

“We were best friends, and you… killed me?” The hurt that you didn’t bother to veil betrayed your inner turmoil of emotions. He didn’t respond at first, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. You stared at it. He had killed you and he still had the bracelet on. He didn’t deserve to wear that band, that _ you _ had crafted, anymore. 

That had been for your best friend, not this monster. “I don’t understand.” You just found yourself to be even more confused. 

Angel looked like he wanted to say something, and upon Charlie noticing and shooting him a harsh glare, he held his hands up in defeat. 

“I’m sorry.” Kyle blurted in a tone that not only sounded detached, but not in the least apologetic. 

The words felt like a tsunami had crashed upon you, it rocked your world. Whatever dam had held back your tears, was now broken. Your emotion entirely too visible on your distraught and confused face. “You’re _ sorry?” _ You whispered as you brought a hand up and wiped your eyes. 

“You _ killed _me!” 

He flinched, a frown adorning his lips. But he didn’t respond. 

“...Why, Kyle?” You sounded broken, distressed. 

“So the prick has a name.” Blitzø spoke up and was immediately met with a death glare by Moxxie and Charlie. Millie giggled. Everyone else ignored him.

“I didn’t— I didn’t _ want _ to.” The betrayer began, “There was a task assigned to me to make sure that a deal went through with this other gang member.” 

Gang? You scrunched your face up in a mixture of pure confusion and irritation. What did this have to do with your death? Your _ murder? _Kyle’s knee bounced anxiously, you stared at it for a moment, bracing yourself for you to hear that you had also been in a gang or something.

But what he said was completely different.

“I was ordered to, um, kill the person if they didn’t comply with my dad’s demands.” His knee bounced more, the heel of his shoe making a sound each time. Your eye twitched. “I guess you were walking to my house or _ something _ and you saw me dragging his body into the dumping grounds.” The word vomit made you blink rapidly. You didn’t remember. 

You were suddenly glad you didn’t.

“The _ dumping _ grounds?” You made a confused face.

He hesitated, stealing a glance to you. “...The forest we used to play in as kids.” 

You felt a wave of nausea roll over your shoulders.

He slumped forward, elbows on his knees. He stopped bouncing them. “You asked me what I was doing and who it was and all these questions and I was just so _ overwhelmed _ with it all that, after you helped me hide the body, I told dad.” He explained so quickly and without rest that you had to backpedal. 

You had seen him dragging a body. You had helped him hide said body. You had helped a _ murderer, _ all because you had been his ‘best friend’. 

You felt a hand on your back and from the gentleness of it, you knew instantly that it was Charlie. She leaned over and lowered her voice to whisper: “You don’t have to listen anymore if you don’t want to. I can—”

“No, I _ have _ to.” You cut her off, not bothering to lower your voice. There were parts of you that you could feel shutting down in order to get through this with minimal damage to your already fragile psyche. 

She frowned, but nodded. If this was what you needed for closure, she would not get in the way of hindering your process. The hand was removed from your back.

Your eyes never left Kyle in the meantime. You needed to hear it from him. “Why were you in a _ gang? _” 

He didn’t meet your eyes. “_Are.” _He corrected. “It wasn’t my choice. It’s my dad’s. Either I joined the gang or I got disowned. It’s a... family thing.” His tone implied that it was something you wouldn’t understand.

“A family thing.” You repeated softly, tearing your gaze away for a moment so it could rest on your lap. His family had killed his best friend because you knew too much. Because you had the knowledge of their crimes. 

Because you had helped their son.

You felt Angel Dust stiffen next to you, his leg readopting the same nervous tick Kyle had just ended moments ago. He appeared extremely uncomfortable, and you could only begin to suspect it was because the entire situation was hitting a bit close to home. He hadn’t told you much of his past, but you knew that particular look of discomfort better than anyone in this room. 

He couldn’t meet your eyes. You elbowed him in the side lightly, and when he glanced at you with a twisted frown, you gave him a nod. You could do this. 

“I ah… good luck, toots.” He stood up then and high-tailed it to his room. Blitzø almost appeared tempted to follow after him, but when you turned your attention back towards Kyle, he ultimately decided not to. 

“So... you killed me because I helped you hide a body?” You questioned in an uncertain, wary manner.

“Because you knew too much.” He stared blankly.

Your grip on your pants tightened. “_Because I helped you hide the body?” _You repeated again.

“...It was on my dad’s commands—“ He tried to explain. 

That was the moment you lost it. Your nose crinkled. “He didn’t make you do anything!” Your hands flew from your sides in aggravation. “You killed me just to be on daddy’s good side? So you didn’t get _ ‘disowned’?_” 

You leaned forward. “Lucifer forbid you ever did! Whatever would you do?” 

You furiously rubbed at your eyes to aid in slowing down the sudden onslaught of tears. “...Did you think that maybe you would have been able to have started a new life for yourself?” You sounded broken, distraught. “You condemned me to die because you didn’t want to grow _ up! _” 

He was silent, face morphed into one in semblance of deep thought. You crossed your arms, took a deep breath to calm your nerves in order to avoid breaking down. If you were to get the answers you needed, you had to remain as calm as you could possibly be. You didn’t want to be taken advantage of.

“...How did you do it?” 

He looked to you then, and upon seeing your overwrought face, he exhaled. “I told you to come over to my house, told you that I had to talk to you about something. You didn’t question it. You never did. You just did what you were told.” He reminisced. “When you did, I knocked you out with a rock.” You stiffened.

“After that, my dad and I drugged you to keep you paralyzed, and then threw you into the ocean. You drowned.” He paused. “It was the beach that you used to go to as a kid; you loved it there.” He didn’t sound remorseful in the slightest; in fact, the more he spoke, the more he sounded like a sociopath. 

You weren’t sure what hurt more: the realization that your childhood best friend had murdered you in cold blood just to appease his father, or the fact that you had lost both a friend and your life that day. Charlie looked appalled, Blitzø almost looked like he wanted to hire the kid on the spot. 

“Give me the bracelet.” You whispered.

“What?”

“Give. Me. The. Bracelet.” You held your hand out.

He looked at you like you were crazy, but upon noticing that you were serious, he looked back at Blitzø and showed him the cuffs. With a roll of his eyes, the imp phased one out of existence, let him toy with the pink bracelet, pull it off, and then hand it to you. He replaced the cuff before you could even blink.

You snatched the bracelet harshly out of his grasp, stood up, and stalked over to the still raging fireplace. Upon reaching it, you tossed it into the flickering flames and watched with an intensity as it was eaten up. Sparks and embers were released as the bracelet burned, popping and snapping as if you had placed a piece of wood in here. Even as it turned to ashes, your gaze never wavered.

You were lost in thought. He had been your best friend, close to you as any family member could have been. The fire warmed your face and any of your exposed skin. You were standing too close; the magic that was ever eternal lapped enticingly at your skin. Friends… Family. 

_ Family. _

The silence in the room grew weary just before you spoke up.

“Did I have a family, Kyle?” Do you still have one? Were they worried? _ Did you take me from them, too? _

There was a second of hesitation. “Well, your funeral is today— so, yeah.” 

You spun around so quick that you nearly staggered back into the fireplace itself. Perhaps then you would have been able to state that you had been burned by the fires of Hell. “It’s been two months.”

From the distance, you watched as his face contorted into confusion. 

“No, it’s only been two weeks.”

You felt something snap in you. “_What? _” 

Charlie took a breath to speak up then, but your attention never faltered from Kyle. You glared at him harder than you had ever glared at anyone before. 

“Time is slower down here. Two weeks on Earth is one month in Hell.” She explained, “Vice Versa in Heaven, as far as I’m aware.” The blonde had a thoughtful expression, but abandoned such thoughts when she returned to the reality of the situation. 

_ “And no one was going to tell me this!?” _You shouted.

No one responded. 

You couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t deal with this overload of information. You rubbed your face, and turned your attention back to the douchebag; the beginnings of a migraine forming at the back of your head. “Who’re my parents?” 

He replied with their names, and you began to pace. 

“Do I have siblings?” You questioned.

“No. You’re an only child. Like me.” He replied.

You took a deep inhale before exhaling, trying to push out all of your frustration through that sigh. That must have hurt even more, then. To lose your _ only _ child. You knotted your hand at the top of your head in stress, your other hand balled at your side. “Do they know that you killed me?” 

“...No.”

You paused mid step, bringing your hands up to your mouth in a praying motion before pointing them viciously at him. “Did you tell them how I _ died?” _

He shook his head solemnly as if he weren’t the motherfucker that had killed you. “Your body was never found because you sank to the bottom. Sharks happen to be the ocean’s vacuum, you know.” 

Your face contorted into disgust and horror. “What did you tell them? You were like a _ son _to them, right?” Oh, your poor family. Your heart lurched at the thought of them— you didn’t remember them, but you knew they existed. You had always known, deep in the recesses of your mind, that they had loved you, too. 

“I didn’t tell them anything. They are distressed, anything I said would have made it worse.” He defended. His tone sounded detached, emotionless.

Your anger and disbelief soon followed.

“Of course they’re distressed, you absolute _ FUCKNUT!” _ A yell as you began to pace again. “You took their daughter— their _ only _ child. Does it make you feel good to know that you destroyed a family that cared for you when your damn _ father _wouldn’t!?” Your hands returned to your sides, fists clenching and unclenching.

“Does it make you proud to know that you gave up the only happiness that you would receive from them for who _ knows _ how long, because now everytime you see their face, you’ll think of _ me?” _Your nose crinkled.

Before he could even think of a witty response or defense against himself, you pointed directly in front of you.

“Bring him over here.” You looked at him, and Blitzø pushed Kyle forward, the chains clattering to the ground as he stumbled forward. The moments between him walking to you and standing before you were filled with the stupid fucking silence that you hated. The television, sometime, had turned off.

When he was situated in front of you, you reeled your fist up and cracked him in the jaw as hard as you could. The last time you had done such a thing was without the emotion you felt; everything you had ever felt was in the punch, and when you heard the sickening crack of your fist meeting his cheek, you felt a _ whole lot better. _

Charlie gasped, but didn’t do anything to stop you. She knew she had to let you do this on your own— she did not want a repeat of yesterday. 

You ignored her. His lip bled, and his cheek would probably bruise, too. _ Good. _

Didn’t mean that your hand didn’t hurt by doing it, though. You rubbed your fist gently, holding it close to you. He stared down at you with disbelief and anger in his eyes. The fact that _ he _ felt angry, made you even more infuriated. Malice and pure, unadulterated hatred pooled within the depths of your gaze. 

“Turn yourself in,” You hissed was you narrowed your eyes, “Explain it to my parents, the _ police, _or you—“ you sneered, looking over to Alastor then. You noticed that Kyle had been afraid of him. 

No matter how much the Radio Demon was a nuisance to you, the monster standing in front of you was infinitely worse. And in light of everything, it suddenly came to mind that there were worse people than Alastor in your existence. In this world. 

You wouldn’t let your death go unjustified. 

“...Alastor, what will you do?” You knew he was dangerous. You knew he could do things unimaginable to the monster, and in truth you only wanted to scare him. Just enough to ensure that he would go through with your commands. You weren’t sure if you would ever be able to function in a world that _ Kyle _was in after this recent development. Death to him would give you no points. 

You were pissed off. Betrayed. _ Hurt. _

“I’m _ so _ glad you asked, my dear!” 

He swept over to you, standing strong and proud by your side. His finger traced the top of his microphone in thought. “I had the most wonderful idea! Since you seem to have the _ strangest _ aversion to murder,” He rolled his eyes, “I was thinking that I could simply... _ send him away._” His eyes went lidded in mischievousness; and his grin appeared a lot larger. 

More _ threatening_. 

There was something in his gaze that made you wary.

“You see, I could trap him inside my microphone for you, if you’d like. There, he would be trapped; alive, soul and all, for all eternity with absolutely nothing to do!” A claw was brought to tap at his chin in thought. “Oh ho, why, I don’t believe there’s even a library there! Really, _ such a foul time.” _ He tutted. 

His gaze darted to Kyle after a moment and upon doing so, turned far more sinister. Dark. Seething. Alastor’s shadow crept closer to the bound man as he did so. 

“The only thing that will keep him company there is an eternal void of darkness.” He motioned towards his shadow then with a hand, “Of course, perhaps my shadow would keep him company as well— you see,” he hummed, “_It’s been so long since the dear has had a pal._”

You blinked. You hadn’t been expecting _ that. _ Weirded out, but you supposed you had asked for it— hell, those words even sparked a sense of fear in _ you— _you turned to face Kyle with a frown. His eyes were wide, the anger long gone. 

“Those are my conditions.” You sounded tired. Exhaustion hit you hard in the last few minutes; and you were _ really _feeling it.

His mouth opened and then closed, before he tore his gaze from Alastor and fell to you. “But—”

“Shut up.” You snapped. You looked over to Blitzø, Moxxie, and Millie. They seemed surprised at your show of sudden aggression, but you were so fucking _ done. _You nodded towards them in silent confirmation that they had done their job. They had done what they were paid to do. 

They were done.

“Do whatever you want to him, but don’t kill him, I don’t want to see his face until I forget what he looks like again.” Perhaps that was a bit mean, perhaps that would mean a fate worse than here; but you just didn’t _ care _anymore. Revenge was petty, but like hell you were going to let him get away with it scot free. 

“So even after all that,” Blitzø started as he kicked at Kyle’s ankle; attempting to trip him up. “We still don’t get to kill him? _ Really lady? _”

“Do _ you _ want him to be in Hell?” You responded point blank. Your filter was gone. You would neglect courtesy in this moment.

“Ugh, fine, whatever.” Blitzo succeeded in kicking him over when Alastor stepped forward.

“I’ll take him off your hands.” He charmed the imp in a suave tone.

“No you won’t.” You said immediately.

“But darling! I’m not—” He turned to you with a flourish just as you cut him off. He was always being cut off. His grin wavered at the ends.

“I said _ no! _” God damn, this man was going to be the end of you.

He squinted. “You really do spoil all of my fun. I just want to send him...” He waved his wrist around. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it in your microphone?”

He didn’t respond. That’s an answer enough for you.

“Exactly.” You turned away, looking back to the imps. “Thank you.” Because without them, you wouldn’t have gotten your answers. At least you could let the old dog lie now. Though, you still needed to process everything. You needed to figure out what the fuck you were going to do now. 

You needed… fresh air. 

You looked over to Charlie with a weak, tired smile. You didn’t forget about her. Without her paying for it, you wouldn’t get the closure you had so desperately and determinedly sought after. 

“Will that be all?” Charlie spoke up then and strolled over to Blitzø. You hoped it was. You didn’t want to think that this… murderer was in the same room as you.

“I fucking hope so. Is this all done? Can we leave?” He questioned, and despite still begrudgingly holding onto his annoyance, his voice did seem a bit more enthusiastic from the promise of doing horrid things to the kid. 

“Oh, and put another three hundred on that golden card of yours, Princess. For the gas money. You people live so far away and this little _ asshole _ ate all of my snacks.” Blitzø’s brow twitched. The fucking balls on this kid. The imp was tempted to kill him free of charge and not tell you because he had pissed _ him _off. 

“I’ll pay that.” You spoke up. Charlie and the imps turned to look at you in surprise. More so Charlie. Kyle was fidgeting. How do you react knowing that you couldn’t get out of your worst fear even if you tried? 

But no, you wouldn’t let her spend another dime on you for this situation. You refused. You had that much saved up at the very least, you were certain. Blitzø looked at you before he yanked harshly on the chains of the hostage. 

“Whatever. Loona will be in touch with you for the information.” 

You nodded without much fervor; you wanted this to be over. You didn’t want to see him anymore. You, ironically enough, just wanted to _ forget. _

Nevertheless, you walked them out and watched as they kicked him down the stairs. You remained on the porch step. 

Millie was hopping around, chatting away about all of the gruesome ways they could get their hands dirty. You winced, but your eventually expression soured. Normally you wouldn't wish ill will on anyone, but you were pissed, hurt, and this bastard deserved it. He was the only exception. You were being _ nice _for letting him live. 

You also knew deep inside that whatever they decided to do with him, would stick with him forever. 

When they all piled into the car and drove away, you sighed and collapsed on the front step in a seated position. You hadn’t closed the door behind you, your mind was in a whirlwind of dangerous thoughts, regrets, and wonders. Entirely overwhelmed to the point of no return. 

You didn’t even know where to _ start. _You had a lot of shit to settle, now that you had a semblance of closure.

Despite not wanting to do anything other than hole yourself away in your room and not come out until Armageddon itself, you also knew that you probably shouldn’t go through it alone. You still needed to thank Charlie. 

You still needed to do… a _ lot _of things. 

The telltale sound of familiar footsteps met the planks on the porch; the specific ones that you recognized immediately. The ones that belonged to someone you were not ready to face in such a vulnerable moment.

But you simply didn’t have the energy to fight with him, right now. 

When he sat down next to you, still holding onto the five foot rule desperately, much to your utter relief, he crossed his leg one over the other, letting them rest upon the stairs.

And all you could do was sigh in defeat. 


	35. Momma’s Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops, our hands slipped.

“My, what a turn of events!” 

The voice belonged to the one individual that would forever hold the title of ‘mood killer’ in your mind and, in doing so, broke what silence you had begun to revel in. The air around you had been graced with the presence of an all-too familiar static, and though it was more of an afterthought that you actually acknowledged such a thing, you found yourself tuning into the feeling. 

Out of all the things you had gone through, out of all the things you would _ continue _ to face, the one thing that never changed was the ever-present constant that just happened to be the humming of radio silence. The feeling of the atmospheric cling of electricity as it ran across your skin. 

You didn’t find comfort in his presence, per say, more so you found comfort in the fact that the conclusion of everything that made him, _ him, _never altered. He would forever be the Radio Demon, the one that would continue to terrorize the nine circles for his sweet cut of entertainment. 

He would always be someone who you wouldn’t mind tripping up, someone who you wouldn’t mind touching just so he would get triggered and bash his head into a wall again. He would always be someone who, in his own quirky way, could actually be quite _ charming, _ someone you would catch yourself thinking about in all the wrong moments, someone who would make you feel so _ strange. _

And if that weren’t the absolute worst thing to ever come to light, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to go away. 

You watched him like a hawk out of your peripherals, suspicion and uncertainty creeping up your spine at the revelation of him sitting _ next _ to you as if you were a ‘pal’. He would have never done such a thing prior to his confession; he had never allowed himself to physically be at a lower standing point with another person out of a weird show of power.

A _ dominance _thing. 

If he ever had sat next to someone, ever willingly put himself in a situation where someone could rise over him, you had never seen it. He did not bend over backwards for even Lucifer himself— and the fact that he now sat next to you, in an action that could have been interpreted to him thinking you were an _ equal_, needless to say, you were anxious. 

But perhaps that also had to do with the fact that you had absolutely not a clue what you were going to do now. You found out your past, you had gotten the answers you had—without rest—endlessly searched for with pure grit and determination. 

Now that you had your answers, you could process them given time. Your already fragile psyche _ needed _time. 

But what then? 

“Are you quite alright, my dear?” When he broke through the barricade of your thoughts with a tone that sounded particularly concerned, you jumped. 

You let out a heavy breath and noted that you could feel the the particular heaviness of his gaze on you, burning through your heavily reinforced walls as your defenses crashed and shattered. 

You refused to respond as you leaned your head onto the railing. It was uncomfortable, understandably, but you needed to get support from _ somewhere, _ and it might as well have been from the fucking rail. With that, your vision had begun to grow blurred with thinly veiled emotion.

He hummed a single note for a moment, as if he were mulling over thoughts.

The cold air made the beginnings of your tears feel warm against your cheeks. You were so tired; emotionally, overwhelmed to the point that the only release you had come to know was the shedding of tears. A soft, uncertain exhale as the tension in your shoulders faltered. 

Your mind was everywhere, trying to reel in on the overstimulation of everything that happened up until this very moment. Your adrenaline had managed to neutralize the sheer majority of whirlwind emotions you had; but now that you were rid of the unexpected, stressful situation, the weight on your shoulders felt so much _ heavier._

So much more intense and constricting. 

Perhaps if the longitude of the silence continued, you would be able to appreciate the company in general. Out of all the people that could have come to sit with you, took time out of their day to offer you consolation, of all the _ options, _ you weren’t sure how to feel about it being _ him. _

Wary? Nervous? Apprehensive? _ Appreciative? _

It could’ve been Husk and his quiet strength, Charlie for her kindness, Vaggie’s dedication, or perhaps even Angel for his own brand of acquaintanceship. The one who had decided to be there for you; after you had just received one of the most devastating blows was none other that the one demon you felt far more confused about than anything. 

You wondered his motive; wondered if he would be cruel and mock you, if he had decided to just drag you out on the date now, if he would take advantage of your state; or whether or not he would manipulate you further into giving in. He was chaotic, dangerous, and had eyes for you for reasons unknown. Out of all the wrong doings he had committed to you in the past, out of everything you had gone through _ because _of him—

You supposed the idea of having a certain someone near you made you take this a whole lot… _ better _than if you had been alone. 

“That was a terrible thing he did to you.” He stated, “I’m positive you didn’t deserve it.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him idly staring out into the open expanse of the city of Hell itself. All the billboards, all of the flashing lights, did well to deter you from the dangers of your mind. You repositioned yourself slightly into a more comfortable position. 

But in this particular case, that was difficult.

However, the moment you thought he would be done and the two of you could sit in an aimless silence as a colossal tsunami of thoughts crashed over you, he spoke up again. 

“Should you ever wish to speak about it… you are welcome to.” His voice had taken on a gentler tone, far softer than how he spoke normally. It had a particular lilt at the end that threw you off for a good minute. 

And so you inhaled a great bout of air, breath shaky as you tried to reel in all of the frayed feelings you endured.

“You’re not any better.” A muttered phrase as you brought an arm up to rub away the tears that threatened to spill over. Your words, however, were without venom. If anything, you sounded _ exhausted; _too tired to even be annoyed at this moment.

Too emotional to even begin to contemplate. 

“Actually! There is _ one _difference.” He piped up, raising a singular claw in the air and holding it there in an elongated second, as if someone had truly just held a remote up and pressed ‘pause’. It would have been amusing if had you not been so deep in your own mind.

Before you could speculate if he would leave you hanging, he continued with a hum and became animated again. “I would have never done such a despicable thing to _ you.” _He accentuated his meaning by stealing a glance at you, just as he lowered his gloved hand and settled it on his lap.

“Yep...” A silly response, maybe, but it was all you could really bring yourself to say. It was something that didn’t require thought, motive, or _ meaning. _ Something that could pass just as quickly as it had come to light. Something that would fly by just as nicely as if you had given an articulated response. Your tone held the semblance of not wishing to continue said conversation; but of course, as _ always, _Alastor rarely cared. 

He was a real chatterbox; always had been, always would be. 

“I am…” He started, “_Aware _ that you think little of me. However, such an awareness will never stop me from trying to lessen how harsh Hell can be—“ You wanted to groan. You couldn’t do this right now. 

“—Particularly, for you.” He finished, and you took that moment to lift your head off of the railing and focus your attention on him. You needed to focus your attention on _ something _. 

There was an eerie calmness to his movements; to his physical presence; an observation so odd considering how exuberant he normally acted. 

He remained collected; and for that, you were thankful. If he had been unable to do such a thing, if he had been his normal self—excited, enthused, _ quick— _surely you would not have been able to calm yourself down the way you were succeeding in. 

You know, by pushing the elephant in the room out. By _ ignoring _it. A healthy method, for sure. 

Of course, Alastor didn’t quite see it that way, as he continued on with his words. “There is a reason it can be best for others not to look into their past.” When he turned his head to face you, you hesitated, but held his gaze. “It is unfortunate you met such a terrible fate by the hands of someone you had trusted.” His tone was soft_er, _his gaze as well in comparison to his usual scrutinizing, amused one. 

There was something off putting about it that you couldn’t quite place, as if he weren’t entirely sure how to properly console you; as if he had never done such a thing before. In a meaningful way, at least. You remained quiet, finally giving yourself to strength to move your gaze to your lap. To your hand, with which you played absentmindedly. To the wood paneling next to you, where it had begun to chip and wear. Anywhere but him. 

There was a long silence, the distant chatter of the denizens of Hell as they passed the hotel, the wind of the winter evening, the creaking of the weight of your movements against the weary planks. The tranquility didn’t last, it was out of place in a place such as this. Such peace never did last very long; and the moment you began to tune back into your thoughts; dangerous as they may be, your company spoke up again. 

“You know, my own death is not something I am happy with.” He peered out to the city, scanning idly for the briefest of moments before you could feel his gaze on you once more. “Shot in the head by a fellow hunter.” 

The words were strained as if he truly were unhappy with his untimely demise; as if such a memory were as foul as they came. As if he _ deserved _something better. You brought your arm up and rubbed your unrestrained tears away. You weren’t actively sobbing, for they were silent as they could ever be. A release of pent up emotion. 

Sniffling, you released a shaky sigh and turned to look at him again, swallowing thickly. By sharing his own death, his words acted in a macabre manner of comfort. 

“I’m sure you’re aware that my hobbies included hunting fowl, deer, hogs..._ amongst other things_.” A raise of an eyebrow to ensure you were following, and boy howdy were you. That last part didn’t sit well with you in the slightest as you recalled that he had been a cannibal. 

  
With that, a chill scurried up your spine. You blinked.

But that was enough for him. He nodded once, returning his attention towards the silhouetted city once more. “The place I felt safest were in swamps and forests alike. There’s something quite fascinating about nature, darling, I do think you would have liked it.” 

Maybe you would have. Who knows. You were dead now. You weren’t sure if you would feel safe in the forests or bayou’s of Hell, though. You weren’t eager to find out. 

“Ironically,” He eases back in, “that was where I met my own expiry.” There was silence for a few ticks. The static that he carried with him lapped at your hands, _ exposed _ neck and face. You had gotten used to it, somewhat. You didn’t really notice it until you thought about it or weren’t expecting it. Like now. 

“Unlike you, I was able to recall my end in great detail, as well as my life.” 

You nearly scoffed. Gee, thanks for rubbing it in. You twisted your face up, rubbing away yet _ another _stray tear. “Husk said that it was normal to not remember, though.” Out of everything he had said, that was the one thing that stood out to you the most. 

“_Husker _ told you that because he’s out on the roof. The only thing he remembers is the last time he drank!” Alastor chuckled, his grin growing, the seriousness of the topic something that he brushed off quickly. Such a thing was something he did spectacularly. 

You frowned. That wasn’t true. Husk was a lot smarter than he let on. He just… had a lot of problems. Gambling and drinking problems, namely. Emotional problems. The list went on, but that was besides the point. 

You took a deep breath and then exhaled: “You don’t have to stay here, you know.” 

He hummed, as if he were contemplating your comment. “Darling, I don’t have to do anything that I don’t want to do.” 

Well fine then, self entitled prick. You huffed, and squinted are him, You were too tired to even focus on being angry in general. It was such an exhausting emotion. That, and it was hard to be when you had innumerable things on your mind.

“If I’m here, it means I want to be.” He almost seemed at peace with how he examined the passing citizens. 

For several long moments, you both just sat there, staring out into the distance. The red sky looked so stark against the white that had come to cover the ground, as well as a glimpse of Heaven from what you could see. 

As there was such a contrast between the two of you. Alastor had such a dark past, a murderer and a cannibal, his past painted by shades of crimson. And yours in comparison was indeed, very white, untouched, pristine. Very fitting in a way, and in another, a bit eerie. 

You wondered why he would choose to sit out here in the cold with you before, in the back of your mind, you began to notice that it really wasn’t that _ cold _ while he was sitting next to you. You squinted in thought, considering how cold it had been before he had come outside. 

You didn’t comment on it. 

You found yourself too tied up in your thoughts and the previous events of the morning and afternoon that you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything else. The deal, talking with Angel, and now finding out your past in a less than optimal way. The tears had ended in their almost eternal flow, your thoughts plaguing your mind so much that you couldn’t even do _ that. _

“If it’s quite alright, I should like to speak with you about something that’s been buzzing around my skull.”

Nevertheless, you blinked away your residual tears, and slowly released a hum in a questioning tone. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him anymore, and instead trained your gaze on the passing citizens, just as he had. It was interesting how different they looked; all the shapes, colors, sizes, and species they came in. 

“Earlier, when you had that _ breathtaking _ transformation,” He looked lost in thought, as if he were daydreaming about it. And then, he looked back to you. “You mentioned something. I was just wondering if you remembered those moments you had shared your thoughts.”

You remained quiet for a moment, trying to piece together things that you wouldn’t be able to. Inevitably, a failure. Except—

“I remember telling them about your assholery.” You muttered. 

Alastor held back a chuckle, that smile still on his face, though it was exceedingly smaller than you are used to seeing; close-lipped. “That you did.” He nodded once, “However, it was also mentioned that it would take a great deal more from me to make them wholly concerned about your well being.” He paused for a long moment, reading your expression to see if you suddenly recalled any of it. 

You didn’t. 

“For example: it would take me raping you.” His smile threatened to leave, shaking in and out of existence, but rather than seeming fearful, he seemed genuinely sad as he stated those words.

You stiffened and whirled your head around to face him. 

“I was always aware you thought so little of me, but do you truly think I would perform such a barbaric attack, especially to _ you?_” His gaze was lost in a way, and in many ways, he no longer looked like himself, he seemed far too… distraught.

And then he did the one thing that you would never get used to that freaked you out to no end; the nearly eternal smile dropped completely. Up to this point, you were the only one to ever experience such phenomena, and to put it in simple terms, you wished you never had.

You stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and shock; unsure of how to appropriately react. You were thoroughly creeped out, you could feel your heart stop for the longest of moments that, any longer, you would have ceased to exist. You weren’t sure where to begin. 

“_Would you?_” You settled in a whisper, barely audible to your own ears. 

He sneered. “There are many things that I would do to try and win your affections… However, even I have limits to what I think to be romantic.” He paused and you watched as he inspected his claws. “I know of few actions and cruelties in this world that are more abhorrent than taking someone’s body in such a _ disgusting _ way.” 

Your eyes scanned him, trying to figure out if he was fooling you or he would just outright attack you right then and there, or if he had actually just given you the truth. He was an enigma, a mysterious force. It was hard to tell. Your eyebrows furrowed. The memories of that day were such a blur, and you were pissed that you didn’t remember such an incredibly uncomfortable statement. 

You felt like you should have. 

“I don’t remember saying that.” You shakily stated as you looked to the side momentarily. “But after all you’ve done, don’t you think that I _ would _ think you would do something like that to me?” A hesitation, “...You’ve destroyed all of my trust in you from your past actions.”

The moment you saw Alastor’s fingers clench, you peered back to him. It was such a strange sight to see his lips deepen into a _ frown_. 

“What can I…” It was not often Alastor was at a loss for words, and you _ also _frowned softly. “I believe that my time in Hell and my… peculiar predilections, have steered my attempts at wooing you down a road I had never intended them to go.” His posture seemed to sink, and his shoulders dropped just enough for him to hunch ever so slightly. 

You were at a loss. You weren’t sure how to respond. How to spin off from his words. “...If I never told you, do you think you would have realized?” 

Finally a smile, although a small, almost remorseful one, slipped back upon his features, and for a reason you didn’t want to indulge, you let out a sigh of relief. He looked back over to you; and you noticed how utterly dark the circles were under his eyes. 

_Same boat, buster. _

“This is the one of the most difficult tasks I have ever undertaken in my time spent down here.” He shook his head to emphasize his meaning. 

Sounds fake, but okay. You would let him express his thoughts— it was perhaps the first time you had actually conversed with him in a manner that was serious and… without sheer hatred. See? You could adult. 

“But all I seem to succeed in is making you angry, and causing you to fear me more than you already do.” His smile twitched, and for the briefest of moments, you _ feared _that it would disappear. You were thankful it didn’t. 

“I would like to think that I would have figured it out on my own.” His eyes traveled back to his hands, folded in his lap. “Realistically speaking, however, is a different matter entirely. When you told me, I was shaken to my core because I hadn’t held such genuine affection for another in a very _ long time _.” The emphasis on his last two words were heavy. 

Your mouth opened, and then closed. Every fucked up thing he had ever done to you was to try to understand his own feelings, his own desires, and to understand what _ you _wanted. 

“Who?” It was a single worded question-- a question of inquisitiveness regarding the fact of whether he had ever had someone to care for in… that aspect. It sounded absurd, coming from a man who had licked your hand. You were still salty about that. 

He was doing a good job at distracting you from your own mind, though. 

“The only other woman who had my heart was the one who gave me life in the first place.” He paused. “But I did not recognize what I held for you as similar because… I have never understood that there are different types of emotions you can hold for others.” The word vomit made your already overwhelmed mind lag with the intensity of someone who had no idea what the fuck was just said. 

But you did know. You _ did _understand. 

“This entire...thing,” He rolled his wrist in the air, gesturing upwards to a grander scenario. “Is entirely new and strange to me. All these feelings as it were.” You guessed that the only feeling he was used to chasing, was that of entertainment.

_ Still. _

“I remind you of your _ mother?” _You made a face. 

“Not in the ways you’re thinking, I assure you.” A small smile, then. “She was fierce, a woman who could straighten out any person on the block, with the voice of an angel, and the hand of a ball player!” He grew animated, raising a fist and clenching it in his reverie. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, curiosity, and _ slight _amusement. 

“She was the only person I respected, and the only person who could keep me in line!” He ended with a chuckle. There was a heavy moment, and with that, you watched his expression fall once more. It never ceased to amaze you how expressive a face could be; and Alastor seemed to have it down to a T. 

“She was the only person I could trust. The only individual who ever showed me what… certain actions meant, _ what my feelings meant_.” He peered down at his claws and traced the sharpness with his eyes.

You felt _ guilty_, almost. Not completely. But slightly. You knew you had nothing to feel guilty for, but you still did. 

Taking a deep breath, you pushed away your resentment and fear and all the ill feelings he had ever made you feel, for now at least, and scooted over to him. It felt… weird to do it on your own, to willingly put yourself in his space. 

He snapped his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised in shock before he stilled completely, as if he were afraid that if he moved, it would frighten you away. 

As if you were the prey and he were the hunter, and yet, rather than going in for the kill, he peered down at you curiously. But those thoughts were only speculation of what you could see and were aware of regarding his past. 

Because you were in such close proximity, you allowed yourself to revel in his presence, and in doing so, breathed in his scent. He smelled of dark pine with a depth of sandalwood; a hint of bergamont.

You hesitated. 

And then you looked down at his clawed hand as he inspected it; the glinting of the claws instilling a sense of danger. They were sharp; you could tell just by the distance you still had. “Do you know… do you _ understand _ what you’re feeling now?” Understand how _ you _felt? 

Talking about such a topic was uncomfortable to you, truthfully, it felt like it had always been a sensitive one. The topic of emotions and relationships; and now you had an understanding as to _ why._

He remained still for a moment longer before following your gaze. “No.” Simple, to the point. Honestly, you would have been satisfied with that. 

  
But it was never quite that simple.   
  


“While we’re being honest with each other. I am baffled, confounded, and utterly _ befuddled _ by the entire matter.” He emphasized his confusion by the sheer amount of synonyms. “The matter of course being you.” He said, as if you hadn’t already known. 

“There are feelings in my chest I have never felt and though some are mildly familiar, it’s all still new. I’d like to think I can come to understand these feelings. Though the only feeling I am sure of, is that it pains me to be away from you for too long.” 

You blinked owlishly. Your eyes, however, remained trained on his claws. In your overwhelmed mind, you wondered if they were _ painted_. For a long moment, you remained in silence, before raising a single hand from your lap and outstretching it so the palm faced upwards. 

“Just do it before I change my mind.” If he didn’t get what you were offering, you would continue on and act like it didn’t happen to begin with. Your chest felt tight with uncertainty and _ fear _ — and something else that you were beginning to grow accustomed to. Something that was… _ pleasant. _

He eyed your hand curiously, a question in his eyes that went unanswered as his hand slowly extended to grab yours. He grabbed it as if you both were shaking hands. 

You stared at it for the longest of moments. What. _ No way. _

You couldn’t help it. You reeled back and burst into laughter almost immediately. God, he was so _ dumb_. Said dumb person had shock written over his features, although, his smile etched upon his features once more in fascination. 

You were in tears of pure amusement at that point; and in doing so, you had leaned to the side subconsciously and half-way against him. It was a fifty-fifty shot of where you would have gone; either to the railing or to him. 

“May I inquire what I have done to provoke the alluring sound of your laughter?” 

The moment your laughter had begun to fade, the high of your amusement simmering as his words met you. “...Why are you like this?” You snickered, shaking your head. 

You unraveled your hand from his before laying your palm out flat. “Do this.” You waited until he followed your instructions before continuing. “And spread your fingers.” 

He offered you his hand in the position you requested, as if he were prepared to take something from you. You let out a heavy breath, and brought your hand, almost nervously to lay across his. You waited a moment, before you curled your fingers in the spaces of his. You didn’t speak, you smile relaxing into a neutral, almost confused expression. 

He seemed just as fascinated as you were.

“It was difficult for me to grasp the fascination behind hand holding, up until this point, my dear.” His gaze was locked on your joined hands, ever curious, and eyes filled with something soft, and warm. It always looked so _ strange _ on his predatorial face. Yet… nice, for a change of pace. 

“Back in my day, if you wished to escort a dame, you did so! I did not believe there was a need to parade them around so forcefully.” He paused, and in that time you brought your other hand to push his fingers down into the spaces of yours so that he was holding your hand as well. 

“...Like that.” Your eyes continued to be trained on them with furrowed brows.

He let out a hum. “All in all, If there’s anything to deduce from all of this, I’m beginning to understand the appeal.” His ever-notable grin softened at the edges, the corners of his eyes as well. While his gaze was soft, warm, and curious, yours had grown confused and nervous.

This moment didn’t excuse all the atrocities he had done though, despite the intentions behind them. You looked away then with a defeated sigh. All of the questions that you had ever wanted to ask him started banging around in your skull once more, and this time, he couldn’t run away, and you didn’t think he would. 

Not this time, not while you held his hand like this. 

“Am I... only a piece of entertainment to you?” You said after a moment. “Do you like the chase? Do you like not knowing when I’m going to lose my mind next? How I’ll respond? How it’ll change my perception of you?” You blinked warily, rubbing your arm. “_...Why did you choose me?” _You couldn’t help how it all flooded out of you. It had been begging for release for so long, and now it was all out.

And this time, you would remember.

He started to speak, his voice soft in a manner similar to that as if he was worried of frightening you. “I find you to be incredibly charming. Whimsical, even! While you are an endless source of entertainment for me, this chase, as you call it, is _ maddening. _” You felt a claw under your chin as he led your gaze back to him. When he did, he moved a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I have never, in all my time, felt so exhausted by another individual. It is never my intention to cause you such distress that you lose your bearings, though, I will confess, it truly was a lovely display of power you released during your first transformation.” See? Mood killer. 

You nearly rolled your eyes. 

“I should like to see it again, though hopefully I shall not be the cause.” For the first time, the smile he sent you was not in a creepy manner; instead, it was genuine and hopeful around the edges, his eyes soft as they looked you over.

As much as you wanted to apply it towards embarrassment, you couldn’t hide the heat that crawled over your face. Your nails anxiously picked at the skin at your fingertips. You were so utterly baffled at his display of gentleness that it almost made you forget all the bad things he had ever done to you in the first place. 

Almost. 

“You’re never going to stop, are you?” You near-whispered as you looked away again.

“I would like to tell you yes, but in truth. I know that I cannot. There is a feeling I have in my chest that is driving me, letting me know that this eternity will not be complete, unless I have you… _ by my side._” 

You bit your bottom lip, moving his hand to your lap as you inspected his nails. They indented into your skin, not uncomfortably, you would say, but it definitely reminded you to be careful.

You squinted at them the longer you stared at them, bringing your other hand to briefly scratch at the surface of one. You didn’t want to talk about feelings anymore; it brought up memories that were still extremely fresh on your mind. You had learned of your past, and now you wanted to forget it all over again. 

His previous answer, however, caused you to frown as you recalled the _ deal. _

“I… have a question.” You murmured, before cutting yourself off. “Two, actually.” 

“Yes? What would they be, my dear?”

“One, what type of nail polish do you use?” You needed to catch him in a good moment. You were also a good mood killer. 

“What are you on about, darling? Nail polish? You think I _paint_ my nails?” 

“Well, I mean—” You looked down to his claws again. “_Yeah.” _

“Do you also think I dye my hair? Sometimes we just come in this color.”

“Do you?” Your eyes squinted in amusement, looking at him out of your peripheral vision. 

“Other demons have stranger color schemes than I do. The only person I am aware of who paints their nails, is that effeminate fellow who resides with us here.”

You let a small smile cross your lips, before it twitched. Well, you had dragged it out as long as possible. “Second question is uh, you said you _ couldn’t _leave me alone…?” 

“Yes? What else is that supposed to mean, you think I haven’t tried?”

_ No, I don’t think you have. _“How do you expect to go through on your part of the deal, then?” Your words were hesitant. 

“With careful planning of course!” He replied cheerfully. 

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s _ that _supposed to mean?”

“Am I not speaking English anymore? It means with careful planning! Ideas, actions… and more planning!”

“Planning for _ what?” _ Planning to leave you alone? That didn’t make sense. You wanted him to leave you alone, that was the _ deal. _You don’t plan for that.

“For my part of the deal, are you daft? What else are we conversing about?” His eyebrows had furrowed in confusion. You supposed you should have clarified, though. “You confound me so, you beguiling woman. It’s simply why I just can’t get enough of you.”

You suddenly found yourself extremely uncomfortable, his hand was warm. Too warm. “Why are you planning for leaving me alone?” You tone was a lot less confident than you wanted it to be. 

“...I have just expressed, in a rare moment of vulnerability mind you, that being away from you pains me. It would need careful and strategic planning on my part to ensure I do not make a mistake. It’s my turn to ask you some questions darling, what part _ exactly _ are you lost on?”

“Yeah, it um,” You felt uneasy, uncomfortable. You wanted to go away, hide at the very end of this dimension, but you also felt chained down. Something, somewhere, deep inside of you, didn’t want to move. You passed it as not having the energy to. You would deny it until you could deny no more. 

You began to fiddle with his hand, attempting to sink into your built up walls subconsciously. His limb was limp in yours, as if he were allowing you to move him as you wished, in order for you to let the words flow from your emotion addled mind better. “You know, making this deal, forcing you to leave me alone…” You trailed off. 

“I-I thought it would fix everything, that everything would go back to normal, that… I would be able to figure out who I can be with a fresh slate without being paranoid about you.” It was hard to believe that it only had happened a few hours ago. It felt like days.

You bit your lip anxiously, your movements growing more nervous. “You know, it’s… _ sad _ that I can’t even remember the last time I had a good night sleep because you’re on my mind without rest; if you left me alone, would you still invade my mind?” You clenched your hand, and in doing so, his as well as you ranted off your feelings. 

“And after all the fucked up shit you did to me,” you laughed humorlessly, “I’m pathetic enough to still hold your hand, to… _ to—“ _Give you a second chance. You didn’t voice that that part. It baffled you and made a chill run up your spine. 

You didn’t like that feeling. 

He was silent until he wasn’t. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but when has ignoring a problem ever made it go away?” 

Fuck, he was right. 

“And I have told you before, I am not in control of the thoughts that reside within the confines of your skull, though I truly am honored that you have thought about me, just not that I have been causing you a sense of unrest and seemingly panic…” His hand stilled in yours, as if he were thinking about pulling away from you. But he stayed in your hold, cautious in his gaze.

“It was not my intention to… traumatize you as I did. Strange things happen to a person when they’ve lived down here long enough. I could blame it on my place of residence, but I fear I would have tried similar things had I been living as well.”

You were at a loss. You were so utterly swept up in your emotions that you felt so utterly out of your element, but you were at a standstill, you weren’t sure what to do next; you didn’t like what you felt. Too much had happened in one day. Your mind was positively overflowing. 

You were lost in your thoughts with everything, that you hadn’t even noticed the tears that had begun to stain your cheeks. Again. You hated how emotional you were. 

“Why are you crying?” He sounded confused. “Have I done something again?” He shakily rose his other hand, only to rest it on the top of your head in some semblance of comfort. 

When you felt the heaviness of his hand on your head, you twisted your face up in confusion. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until he had said something, and so you brought your hand up to rub away your tears and inhaled shakily.

“No.” You replied hoarsely. “Not this time.” Surprisingly. “I’m _ tired.” _ Emotionally. But he would probably think it was physical. “I’m tired of feeling this way, worrying constantly. I just want it to _ stop.” _

“None of this goes away, I’m afraid.” He awkwardly pat you on the head. “Most demons have some type of target on their backs. This is Hell, my dear, it’s not supposed to be easy, and though you were wrongly placed here, on _ weak _ criteria I may add,” He sneered up at the sky, as if judging God himself for such a mistake. 

“You are here now. You are a demon, you reside in Hell with the rest of the sinners, and for now… I can only offer you my protection as your stay lengthens.” He paused.

“Should Charlie actually _ succeed _ in her little project.” There was a distaste in his voice, suddenly. A roll of his eyes. “You would be the first to ascend and join the angelic choir, I’m sure.” 

You rubbed your eyes again with your other hand. A small frown lacing at your lips. “I…” you looked up at the darkening red sky, setting your sights on the illuminated silhouette of the haloed cloud. “I don’t think I _ want _ to ascend.” The words were softer, a whisper, you spoke more to yourself in that moment than him.

“You want to stay in Hell then?” His eyes were staring at you curiously, his smile relaxing into a pretentious smirk. You had told him all the things you hated essentially, and you still chose to stay in this den of ineptitude.

“I learned a lot when I was away with Charlie.” You settled your gaze on your lap again. “She and Lucifer filled me in on everything I needed to know.” You sighed, “I’m not sure where my soul belongs, but I know it’s _ not _ there.” Your tears had ceased. Forgotten for another time. For another hour. Inevitable that they would return.

You shrugged. “Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company.” Perhaps there would be a time your mind would be changed; perhaps something would happen that would make you regret those words. But for now, you couldn’t bear to remain in such a solemn conversation. 

And then your eyes narrowed into a teasing, tired one. “Not yours, though.” You peered up at him out of the corner of your eye. You raised your eyebrows expectantly; as if waiting for a smug comeback. You were sure he had a few up his sleeve.

“Of course not.” He eyed you from his peripherals, turning to rest his elbows on his knees in such a relaxed, un-Alastor-pose, you could have said he almost looked human, if not for the gentle swaying of his ears as he rocked his head subtly back and forth to an unheard melody. 

“I would _ never _ expect such a demon of your caliber to be seen with such lowly peasants.” He teased back, turning his head to eye you over his shoulder, a teasing smile tilted on his lips. 

You let out a breath of amusement, but couldn’t bring yourself to respond. It was odd how cold it was outside but how warm it was next to him. You didn’t want a snobby comment if you continued on with the banter— even that took energy out of you that you just did not have. 

“You know,” You murmured, completely disregarding your safety in that moment and instead _ grabbing _ his hand, you stared down at it. Your hand was cold, alright? His hand was warm. That was _ it_. “If you chill out a _ lot, _ maybe I’ll rethink your part of the…” You bit your lip, “...Deal.” And immediately after: “_Don’t _take advantage of that.” Knowing him, he probably would.

His ears perked up, as did his entire body. You winced. You were going to regret this, you knew. “You would renegotiate my end of the deal? _ Truly?_” He almost sounded excited, _ relieved_, even.

“I said _ maybe_.” You glanced at him, and huffed. “What… would you consider to be less cruel?” You sighed lightly; honestly, you didn’t think the original idea was cruel at all. You thought it was very much needed. You needed time to figure all of this stuff out. 

Needed time, alone, to figure out a lot of things.

“What would I consider to be less cruel? Why, I don’t want to be erased from your future, for one! I could, _ perhaps,_ try to give you more space. Though you must know just how difficult it is for me to have such distance between us.” His thumb rubbed gently over your knuckles, and you watched as he did so, no longer like a bird of prey, but instead idly.

You inhaled deeply and then exhaled. 

You murmured, “If you tone it down with your efforts, and I mean _ really tone it down, _then fine. Whatever. I don’t want you to follow me around with your shadow, though. If you’re not there physically, then you’re not there at all.” This time, you were sure you didn’t leave a loophole. 

You looked up at him then. “Or you leave me alone altogether.” Your expression had turned deadpan. You were serious. 

“Would I still have the honor of taking you out for a stroll in the town?” He inquired curiously.

“That’s my part of the deal, isn’t it?” You didn’t have much of a choice now, anyway. 

“It seems you’ve become quite the deal maker yourself, darling!” He held out his other hand, not willing to stop the contact with you. “Deal.”

“...Only when I’m forced to be,” you sighed softly, and took his other hand in yours, awkwardly since the two of you were still holding hands.

The moment you did, however, you noticed a small, blue spark erupt from your joint hands. It felt like someone had shocked you, and in your surprise, you yanked your hands away from him. Your first thought was that _ he _had done something. Your face twisted into confusion and surprise; “What-”

“Ah, your first deal, darling! _ Quite _ a spectacle!” He grinned, before a moment passed. And then the softness returned to his gaze. “The more deals you make, the more powerful the seal will be.” He moved to stroke your cheek affectionately. “...Should that be the road you choose, at least.”

Your heart fluttered uncomfortably and you pulled away, your throat felt tight, and you found it hard to breathe. “...That’s enough,” You choked out before you took his hand from your face and pushed it back to him, and moved to get up. 

He watched silently, his grin relaxed before he looked back out into the city. 

When you were out of his view, you reeled back and slammed into his back, pushing him into the snow. A smug grin erupted on your face. “For one day, at least.” Or perhaps a lifetime. You released a yawn to accentuate your meaning.

You didn’t stay long enough to hear his response, but you did note the amused expression on his face when he turned back around.

_You didn’t fear him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious minds who wish to know what happened to our horrid, monstrous Kyle, for our MC will never know.:
> 
> Alastor had waited until you went to sleep to go and fetch Kyle from the imps. They had still been fairly close and had only started to punish him in their own, inferior way before the Radio Demon seized him.
> 
> He had whisked him away, body and soul to the deepest, darkest parts of his microphone. Thoughts of your lifeless body drifting to the bottom of the ocean were flashing in his mind as he followed in after, his claws begging to sink into something, anything of the traitor’s flesh. 
> 
> A rivuleted string of saliva fell from his stretched lips, a guttural snarl, inhuman, haunting, demonic. When he approached the sobbing man, he no longer looked like the Alastor you knew, no this Alastor’s mouth was three times too large and his antlers had curled outward from his head dangerously. He wished to string his guts like tinsel upon them, to offer them to you in a gift of his pure affection— but alas, you were not to know. 
> 
> His suit had phased into his skin. He had become hungry, starved for the human flesh he had not eaten in decades. He had started with his hands, the parts of him that had betrayed you. Had touched you. Following that, he took large chunks out of his legs, savoring the blood and fluids that dribbled down his teeth; he wouldn’t be able to move within this little void of Hell. 
> 
> He would be back, just when he had finished healing... to do it all over again. Alastor would feast on him, forever, until the end of days. For the rest of eternity.


	36. The Devil Is In The Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the staggering amount of support! We’re both so baffled and excited to bring you Friday’s chapter! 
> 
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> 
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For the first time in a _ long _time, your body awoke you with a gentleness that you hadn’t grown accustomed to. You remained stationary for a moment—perhaps even too long—before you burrowed yourself deeper into the guilt and sheets of your bed.

The warmth welcomed and ushered you into a state of content; a carousel of random thoughts swirled in your mind as a yawn slipped from your lips. You wanted to stay there and never leave and, with an eternity to spend, you probably could. 

In the afterlife, you also had a lot of time to _ think. _

And with that time, came the responsibility of finding a solution to all of the problems that arose in said thinking session. You weren’t even sure where to start. Everything was more of a blur than things that you could take out piece by piece and lay them flat on the table.

If only it were that easy. You supposed you could start with the beginning of the day. 

You had gotten into a spat with Alastor.

Though, he had seen it more as a joke than anything serious, as he often did. Though that was never anything out of the ordinary for such a bastard. The anger you had felt fizzled out quickly and you had found yourself actually _ enjoying _the banter that ensued. Chaotic, odd, but pleasant in some parts. 

Annoying the majority of the time.

You squinted into your pillow, as if the darkness would offer you some sort of consolation. Then came the deal. You had agreed to go on a… _ date_, and in return, he would leave you alone afterwards. 

Suspiciously, he had agreed to such terms before you could ponder it any longer, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized all of the things that you had failed to mention.

The most important term of all: how long he had to leave you alone. 

You had been left to your thoughts afterwards in which you had certain things come to light. You pushed them back down immediately, locked them and barricaded them in a tower guarded by your mind’s highest defenses. 

Moving on. 

Angel Dust had come down later and the two of you were greeted by a present from someone you would come to know as ‘Val’. Whether that was a nickname or the actual demon’s name, was uncertain. A villain in the arachnid’s story; his sins unforgiven. You came to the realization that from the short description of what Angel would share with you, he wasn't a passive individual_. _

In comparison to your own instigator of problems, Alastor was relatively _ harmless_. He was a nuisance and a pain in the ass, sure, but at least you had been able to handle him on your own for the most part.

You had never seen Angel lose his cool; and to say that that had frightened you would be the understatement of the year. He had entrusted you because you were dealing with something that was similar (in a sense). Because he hadn’t known what else to do. At least, that’s what you were getting off of what had occurred. You wouldn’t be opposed to knowing more about Angel’s own situation. Perhaps the two of you could bond over what the two of you had to deal with. 

You weren’t sure why you were so determined to be his friend; but it had always been the case. 

And then came _ the situation. _Your expression contorted into an uncomfortable one as you recalled the fresh memories, because boy did they feel like a kick to the gut. You didn’t want to think about it, but it wasn’t exactly up to you, as your mind was already playing back the memory in vivid detail.

You would have had a better time taking it all in if you had been a murderer, or had done something that was actually _ bad. _But that was not the case. You were killed by your childhood best friend for helping in a situation that you would have been willing to keep confidential; the order given by a father who did not wish to get caught in illegal crimes. 

Your death only added to his ever expanding list. 

Because you had helped a friend get away with murder, in a sense, you were cast down here on ‘rather weak criteria’, as Alastor had put it. 

You drew your knees upwards, curling around the pillow to sink your head into. This was more emotional bullshit that you just weren’t sure what to do with. Your ‘best friend’, Kyle—which now that you pondered on it further, was the _ perfect name _ for such a fuck boy—was your murderer. 

He had bashed your head with a rock and let you drown. _ Paralyzed you. _ There was anger swarming in your gut, along with a tinge of melancholy. Disgust. It was all so much. Mostly though, you felt betrayed. To think he had the _ nerve _ to keep the bracelet you had made him. He was an idiot, a murderer, and a dumbass. 

You wondered briefly if you made the wrong choice of sending him back to the imps for them to deal with, and if you actually should have had Alastor deal with him. 

Perhaps it would have been the one time you could have been mean. But the thought it general, getting ‘revenge’, was something that made you feel… weird. If you would get revenge, you would put yourself on a pedestal as low as his. You weren’t low, and that sure as hell was a low thing to do. Even if he had deserved it. 

Maybe ‘_sending him away_’ would have been the best choice. But then you wouldn’t have been ensured the fact that your parents would get the closure they deserved.

God damn it.

When did you start quoting him? You made a face. Anyways. You had held said demon’s hand, and it wasn’t… the worst thing to ever happen. No matter how much you wanted to say it was, you couldn’t help but also feel a budding sensation of warmth at the thought of how gentle he had been. 

It was so uncharacteristic for him to act in such a way. 

And you weren’t sure how to feel about it. So you decided right then and there that you wouldn’t feel anything at all. Easier said than done. You had also told him that he didn’t have to stay away from you under the terms that he didn’t follow you around unless he was physically there. 

You regretted that, immediately.

Streaks of red light streamed through the windows; shrouding your room in a deep hue. It was times like these where you missed the pink shades of the morning, the blueness of the afternoon sky; the vivid coloration of the evening as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. The glitter of the stars and the abyss of darkness of the night.

Ruby red was such a fantastical color, the physical embodiment of empowerment and the heartbreak of passion. But at this point, it felt more like a _ reminder _than anything else. You sighed, stretched out each individual finger and dug them into the softness of your pillows. Despite your desire to remain motionless, your mind refused you the pleasure of drifting back to sleep.

Instead, it fluttered towards the curious thought of whatever time it was. When you looked over and saw that it was half past noon, you grumbled to yourself. 

You needed to get up. 

In all honesty, you were surprised that they let you sleep this late. Though, you weren’t sure if they ever explicitly told you that you had to be up at a certain time to begin with; and now that you had a full night of rest, you felt a lot more refreshed in terms of how you normally woke up. Maybe you should sleep in more often. 

Upon sitting up, you noticed you weren’t on the verge of paranoia, either. You did not feel the need to look in the corners of your room to ensure your own safety, and you didn’t feel the overwhelming sense of nausea at the realization that you were in the same place that would harbor you for the rest of eternity. 

Your mind was never quiet for long. 

A wince as you pulled the blankets off of you and let your feet meet the floor. Your muscles hated you for that; and you understood the reasoning of it being as you had moved a _ lot _ yesterday without much rest. One thing after the other. You also had the thought of just taking it easy today— you couldn’t bring yourself to think of the reality of _ adulting. _Day off? Day off. 

That was a lot easier to come to a conclusion with than you thought it would be.

You weren’t a lazy person generally, but that was mostly because you didn’t exactly have the time to indulge in such simple leisure’s. The carpeted floor always had a certain chilliness to it, something that was unexplainable, but you sure were happy that it wasn’t hardwood. 

Needless to say, you moved towards the walk-in closet eagerly; even if for the sole reason of putting on fluffy socks. When your fingertips grasped and pulled the door open, you hummed lightly before reaching over and flicking on the light. It was rather bland. 

Monotonous. Uneventful. There wasn’t much in terms of _ comfortable _ clothing. You needed to get more. Though, you weren’t really someone to get dressed up, you had only ever gone out once. But you also needed to save up to pay back Charlie, unless you could find some _ other _way, somehow.

The thought of Charlie caused the memory of acknowledging how many paintings adorned the halls; each with their own set theme. It had been one of the reasons you had naturally assumed that the princess had been the one to lay out the costume. Different clothes from different eras, if anyone had clothes to wallow in, it was Charlie. 

And to boot, she wasn’t freakishly tall. 

The last person you had borrowed clothes from was Angel Dust, and that had been that one pink, fluffy coat that could have very well sucked you into another dimension entirely from how enormous it was. 

Never again. 

At the very least, Charlie’s room was just down the very long, drawn out hallway of yours. At times, you found it hard to believe that the entirety of this place was purposed towards harboring hundreds. It had become so much like a home to you that you weren’t sure what you would feel if guests eventually started pouring in. 

If that ever would be the case. 

Snagging a pair of fluffy socks, and your regular attire for the moment, you put them on and made headway towards where you knew Charlie’s room was. Room sixty-six. Fitting. You weren’t entirely sure if she would be there, but it was a good place to check. The princess never seemed to stop moving around; and you found some similarity in that. If she wasn’t in one place, she had to be _ somewhere_.

By the time you reached the deep mahogany door that looked so similar to the rest of the doors that lined the hall, you rose a fist and knocked three times, the first two gently, the third one a bit louder. There was silence for a moment, but only for a moment, as you heard something fall to the ground on the other side and a light curse. 

“One minute!” Muffled, but notably Charlie’s lilted voice. 

You didn’t wait long, for the door was opened only moments after the shadow of someone standing on the other side became apparent. You were greeted by a tousled-haired Charlie in a bathrobe. “Hey! What’s up? You finally taking it easy?” She tilted her head, and from your view point, you saw Vaggie on the bed wrapped in a sheet. 

_ Oh. _

You were a little surprised to see that she had answered the door… like this, and to make matters worse, your face was now dusted in a light blush. “Ah, um… sorry to interrupt.” You brought a hand to rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “I was wondering if I could borrow some,” a pause, as you were unsure how to describe it. 

“Lounging clothes? I really need to get some more.” You laughed nervously—humorlessly—averting your gaze. 

Charlie grinned and pulled you in by your hand, and you released a small gasp. “Of course! I have just the thing!” She led you towards the bed, and in doing so, you were acknowledged with a small smile from the moth demon. She could see the color dusting across you face. The princess settled you on it, told you to remain there, and disappeared into the closet. You bit your lip. 

You took your time to glance around the room. It was a king sized bed, the sheets and blankets for once were not red, but the wood that made up the bed frame consisted solely of the expensive mahogany that you had come to familiarize yourself with. Perhaps it was just a commodity in these parts. The room was around your size, if not a _ bit _bigger. A flatscreen television that filled the room with background noise, a walk-in closet, a bathroom. 

There were a _ lot _of rose-golds and whites, the ornamentation and carvings in the wood resembling apples and circus-like establishments. A clearing of a throat caused you to look next to you at the origin: Vaggie, who now had a mischievous expression upon her lips.

It was perhaps the first time you had actually seen her in a semi-good mood.

“This your first time seeing a woman naked?” She inquired playfully, and your eyes widened, jaw dropping at the audacity. You nearly screamed, your blush suddenly remembered and intensifying. How embarrassing.

“_No! _I mean, I—“ You stuttered, cutting yourself off.

She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Then why are you blushing like such a virgin?”

You gawk. “B-Because I _ am a virgin!?” _

Vaggie started to laugh. “It’s okay, chica. It’s not like you can actually ‘catch the gay’ if that’s what you’re worried about.” She tossed you a toothy smile, and you returned a more nervous, awkward one before shaking your head. 

“No, no!” Your hands flew out. “I think you and Charlie are great, it’s just—I’m just—sorry if I ruined the mood.” You should probably shut up now.

“Not at all, we were in between plays.” She giggled.

You rose a brow and blinked. “Riiight, um. Cool. Glad you guys, uh… Yeah.” Upon realizing what exactly she had meant, your blush had now scattered across the entirety of your face.

Vaggie smiled in contentment, as she found herself rather charmed with your stumbling. 

“I think I found something for you!” Charlie announced proudly.

She rushed over to you and jumped into a sitting position on her bed, right next to you. She held out a large maroon hoodie, that from a glimpse at the hood, looked to be lined with velvet. The pants folded neatly under seemed to match. But what caught your eye was the cute slippers that she was also holding out for you. 

They had a pale fur trim around the lip of the shoe and the same fur seemed to be inside as well. You smiled.

“These should fit you if you roll up the pant legs a bit. But you go and take it easy today!” She settled the clothes in your lap before throwing her arms around you in a warm hug. You couldn’t even be surprised anymore by how friendly she always was. You accepted it with a shy smile, wrapping a free arm around her lithe form.

“Thanks Charlie,” You kept a hold of the clothes as you stood up and stepped away from the bed. 

You opened your mouth and started to stutter out, “I’ll just um, leave you both— _ bye_!” You awkwardly held the clothes in one arm and darted promptly out of the room, exceedingly flustered. Not only were you flustered by just how awkward you were, but also that you had interrupted such an intimate moment. Even thinking about what they had been doing— _ nope. _

Cut those thoughts off.

When you were safely outside the room you slammed the door… as quietly and as gently as you could, and took a deep long breath to settle your frazzled nerves. Upon doing so, you let out a nervous laugh as an afterthought and started the trek back to your room. As you were walking, you started to think about just how lucky you were that you had Charlie and the hotel as a whole.

She had done innumerable things for you, and the thing that stunned you the most, was that you knew she never expected anything back in return for her good deeds. 

She had given you a home during one of the strangest and most stressful times in your unlife. Because of her you not only found out what happened to you, but you had a job, and you had a safe future with her around as well. Each time you had been lost, she had reached out a hand to help steady you so you would be able to find your way back.

You knew that there weren’t many people like that on Earth, let alone down here in _ Hell_. 

Kyle had been a lesson enough in that. 

You had been entirely too lucky that Angel had found you when he had, and brought you here to her. You knew she had taken a shine to you as well, taking you under her wing in the process.

She had been protective and caring to you from the start, as if she were a big sister in a sense. 

Without her, you didn’t really want to think much on where you would be without Charlie… _ or _ the hotel staff. Charlie was a wonderful person and an incredible friend. Sometimes it was difficult to believe that she was the daughter of Lucifer.

Though Lucifer wasn’t entirely frightening as he was more mischievous. 

Oh, you were back at your door, and with that realization, you shook the thoughts of Lucifer away as you entered your space. 

You settled your borrowed clothes on the bed and took a better look at them while you undressed. The sweatpants were so _ soft,_ and red, as was tradition down here in Hell. 

You lifted them up in front of you, about to put them on when something caught your eye. You nearly dropped them as you turned them around. Your eyes were wide and your mouth was agape as you looked at the backside. 

Right where your derrière was, were two large red apples. A bite was taken out of the left apple with the word ‘JUICY’ lettered above them.

You crumpled the pants up in your hands and let out a long, drawn out sigh as you brought the apple sweats to your face— only so you could huff out your frustration into them.

You had a sinking suspicion in your gut that these had been a gag gift from a certain ‘Apple Father’ because you knew Charlie would never have picked these out for herself. Unless she was on death row… or some other strange event in which she would be in desperate need of such gag clothing.

Perhaps a sleepover where the theme was ‘embarrassment’. That sounded like a thing that would happen down here. 

Hell was so strange.

You straightened out your arms and hesitated as you looked them over. 

Who were you to look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, they were _ really _ soft. You put them on and pulled over the equally large and soft hoodie, making sure to tug it down far enough to cover your backside.

You didn’t want to go around the hotel—a place where you _ worked_—flaunting your buttcheeks in such a scandalous way. Some might have called you a coward, but you refused to walk around in a home full of men with ‘JUICY’ stapled over your ass, along with two apples on your bottom, not today, not anyday. 

Not ever. 

You were going to tell Charlie about the apple bottom sweatpants. You had to. You were positive that she didn’t know, because they still smelt heavily of the department store they had been purchased in. They hadn’t been worn before. Your juicy buttcheeks were christening the pants.

You slipped your feet into the fuzzy and warm slippers before turning around to face your mirror. You blinked before tugging on the back of your hoodie. You were pulling on it, trying to make sure that not even a peek of a singular apple would be seen. No one could see your juicy pants. 

God forbid it, but more importantly, _ you _ forbade it.

You finally took a deep breath, satisfied that your ass was well covered, and made your way back out into the hall, intent on going to the lobby. 

Upon reaching the bannister that led to the main lobby, you looked out onto the sea of silence. Your gaze naturally navigated towards the bar, and the familiar face that greeted sent a wave of relief through you. And then dread. Relief because it was _ Husk_, and dread because he hadn’t been there when the shitstorm had gone down. 

Along with Fat Nuggets, he was the only motherfucker that understood you. 

No, you weren’t comparing him to the pig. 

Upon strolling towards the couch, you shot him a glance before sprawling on top of said sofa. Lazy days for the win. There was a sound of a glass being put onto a surface, signifying that the winged feline had finished cleaning it. He muttered under his breath, before the tell-tale swish of a feathered tail and footsteps alerted you. 

“Alright, what sort of bullshit did I miss this time?” His gruff voice spoke out, sounding ever the more tired and grumpy. 

You noted that observation as you propped your legs up, rested your head on the arm rest, and pulled the throw blanket onto you. The ambience of the fireplace was comforting, despite it having unwelcome memories tied to it.

He stared at you for a long moment before he flopped onto the other end of the couch. His wings awkwardly curled against the back of him in the process. 

“For one night, you missed a lot, man.” You commented, settling into the corner of the couch.

“Not surprising, trouble follows you like white on rice.” He tapped a claw onto the armrest of the couch and looked at you expectantly. You let out a sigh. You couldn’t even argue with him on that, because it was more than true. 

“Remember when we went to the I.M.P’s?” You questioned, but didn’t give him a chance to respond. 

“Well, they somehow found out some shit and brought said piece of shit to the hotel.” You sneered, “My childhood best friend _ murdered _ me, and— and you wanna know the reasoning behind it? It was just to make sure he kept up his relationship with his shitty father!” 

You didn’t want to look at Husk, because you didn’t want to see how he was looking at you, whether it was pity on his face, understanding, disgust, or just that same old grumpy expression. 

“Sounds like a shitty best friend to me, kid. You aren’t gonna have best friends in life, the only best friend you can get is your own damn self.” He stated, unfurling his wings for a moment before returning them to its rightful position. “So what’d you do to get on his bad side?” 

“I had helped him hide a body, and it freaked him out or something… so he told his dad who’s the head of some gang. He was ordered to kill me and he did it.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “He actually did it.” 

No matter how many times you would hear it, even from your own mouth, it would never sound right. All of this had happened because someone who you had trusted had turned their back on you, and sealed your fate far too early. You picked at your nails, and hoped that you wouldn’t cry because you had already shed enough tears about this subject more times than you cared to admit. 

Husk remained silent. 

“He bashed my head in with a fucking rock.” You dropped the bomb. “And dropped my body in the middle of the ocean once he paralyzed me with… drugs to be eaten by sharks. I mean— I mean, what kind of lame bullshit is that?” You looked up in your anger to eye the wall opposite you, past the television. 

“And his name is fucking _ Kyle_. I mean, that’s the name of someone who deserves to be slapped!” Who named their kid _ Kyle? _ “But instead of slapping, I punched him and _ damn _ did that feel good!” You rambled as you grabbed your fist and rolled the pads of your fingers over your knuckles. 

You wanted to punch him again. 

“And then after the imps took him away, I was outside, you know trying to calm down, process all my thoughts and stuff, and who comes out to sit next to me?” You weren’t expecting him to answer, so you continued. “Alastor. _ Alastor _ comes outside to sit next to me and make sure I’m okay. It was so _ weird_.” You mumbled the last bit to yourself mostly, bringing your hands up to your arms.

“He… He told me about how he died, and how it wasn’t something he was fond of. That he remembered most of his life. I think in his own way he was offering me his condolences or something.” A breath, “But _ then _ he asked me about what I said during my transformation—what even happened? I don’t remember much.” Your hands started to thread through the tresses of your hair as you started to recall his own question. 

You didn’t even give him the chance to respond. 

“He asked me if I meant everything I said, and I don’t remember! And he asked me if I actually thought he would rape me? And I do _ not _ remember that.” You weren’t sure if you had stressed that enough, but now you were just upset all over again, because now that you thought about it, no, you didn’t think he would ever. He was just a big dumb idiot who didn’t know how to romance anything, let alone you.

He had the literal intelligence of stale bread. 

“And Husk, he was so _ sad_. I’ve never seen him like that, and I didn’t even know you _ could _ hurt his feelings, but apparently you can! And… and I ended up holding his stupid hand.” You buried your face in your hands. 

It sounded so stupid now that you said it all outloud. 

“But it was just the first time he was actually being you know, an actual person and not just a creepy fucker, and I think he was actually sorry, kind of, like maybe, I don’t know.” At this point you just didn’t want Husk to think you were a complete dumbass, but that ship might have already set sail. 

“Kid.” His tone commanded your attention.

You finally looked over to him to note that he had a singular brow raised. He eyed you with a slow blink. A sigh was released before him as he visibly deflated, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, curiosity, and concern. 

“I lost the ability to love years ago, so don’t take this bullshit advice from me.” He slumped onto the couch further. “Shit just happens, you can’t always know the reasoning behind it. It easier to just drown your feelings like I do.” He pulled an alcoholic beverage to his lips from… _ somewhere_. 

Where did he get that bottle? You made a face before looking off to the side. 

“But I don’t _ want _ to ignore them, I…” You recall what Alastor had said, and you trailed off. When had ignoring problems ever made them go away? He had been right. You had drank and tried to ignore them but they always came back. They never went away. 

Husk looked at you out of the corner of his eye, his exaggerated eyebrow raised. Instead of responding, he just shrugged his shoulders, leaned back, and nursed on the bottle. After a few moments of silence, he brought the alcohol bottle to his lap. “Ain’t sure what the hell is going on in your brain, but it sounds like a shitstorm.”

“I’d drink to that.” You murmured, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. 

He chuckled that gruff chuckle of his. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly after a moment, the silence getting to you. Silence was bad. Silence was dangerous. Silence could be filled with thoughts. “Can you turn on the television? The remote is over there.” 

You pointed at the table beside him, and he did just that. 

Almost immediately, you were greeted with some knock off version of Judge Judy on the television, and to say you were mildly surprised would be an understatement. You hadn’t even been aware there was a court system in Hell. Though, you had never really thought of it, either. Needless to say, the peacock demon slammed down the gavel down when the people had gotten too rowdy. 

You were intrigued instantly. 

Mostly because this was the first show you had seen that wasn’t based around blood and guts, though, the topic at hand did have to do with murder. You were entirely certain that this wasn’t real, because it was _ Hell _and no one cared about that sort of thing anymore, anyway. 

The clacking of approaching dress shoes caught your attention momentarily, but you didn’t put much thought into it as you were already too swept up in the drama of it all. If you _ had _looked up, you would have noticed the familiar Radio Demon who appeared to be mildly disappointed at the realization of who exactly it was you were hanging out with. 

He strolled in front of the couch. 

“I would say look what the cat dragged in, but it seems that you _ are _the cat!” He jabbed in a passive aggressive manner, before he turned in a flourish to face you.

Husk grumbled and flipped him a middle finger. “Get the fuck out of the way. You’re blocking the screen.” The bottle that he had raised to his lips echoed and enhanced his voice. He sipped grumpily from it. 

You felt his eyes on you and you made a face, before you finally turned to look up at him. “Yeah?” You were half paying attention, the majority of your focus still on the television. When you referred to him, as if he had been waiting for you to notice his presence, his grin extended. 

Upon doing so, he stepped back to block Husk’s view of the television entirely. 

“I’m glad to see you finally taking a rest!” He practically sang. “May I offer you some form of sustenance? You know, you haven’t been taking very good care of yourself lately…” His voice tapered off at the end as if he was actually concerned for your wellbeing.

“I’m fine,” you waved him off, completely ignoring what he had said. That, or you had forgotten it immediately. “We’re watching a show though, so...“ You trailed off, trying to look past him and to the screen. It was getting good, oh man. You needed to watch this channel more often. 

Your stomach growled. You ignored that too.

He phased next to you then, and you heard Husk mutter ‘finally’ under his breath. “I can hear your stomach. What would you like?” He inquired, his arms folded behind his back.

“Some fuckin’ peace and quiet would be nice.” Husk muttered.

You snickered, looking over at him for a moment. You had been about to say something similar, more along the lines of ‘I’d like you to go away.’ But you didn’t. Instead, you reached out and attempted to push Alastor away without any real effort. It was a lazy day. 

Everything you did was going to be lazy.

He sighed. “You need to eat, my dear, and I’d prefer to make you something you’d actually enjoy rather than just something you’re going to feed the swine.” He rolled his eyes and took a step back to avoid your lame attempts at pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, okay, okay, _ sHHH_!” You shushed him absentmindedly. You weren’t even listening to him. You were so focused on how the judge would… judge the situation. Husk took another swig of his drink. 

“Darling, _ please_, I’m trying my hardest not to punch a hole through that screen.” He hissed, “And I do enjoy a good picture show, if you’d be so kind as to just… _ tell me what you would like._” His patience was wearing thin, and you could tell just by how he had said it through gritted teeth.

The static increased a notch the moment a commercial cut the show off. “Huh?” You looked at him upside down. “I didn’t hear a word you just said.”

His claws twitched at his side, but he took a deep breath. “What can I make for you… that would make you happy?”

A small smile, then. “You have a weird fascination with making food, you know_.” _ He always looked weird, but upside down he looked even weirder. He was weird in general, though. “How’re you such a foodie, but so _ skinny?” _

He scoffed, and you half expected him to do that hair-toss that self entitled individuals did. You were certain he would have if his hair had been any longer. “I am very tall as well as have a fast metabolic rate.” He corrected. “_Besides_,” He bent at the waist. “Feeding others is one way my mother taught me to show affection to those I care about.” 

Husk choked on his drink. 

“Now, darling, would you indulge me?” He leaned forward, an ear pivoted in your direction, completely ignoring Husk. His sole attention was on you. 

You sighed. “I don’t know.” And then you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Pasta?” Yeah. Pasta sounded good.

The threatening tone Alastor had held spontaneously disappeared, instead replaced with a delighted gasp. “I have an absolutely _ delightful _ recipe, darling! I’ll whip it right up, you just enjoy your rest!” He practically skipped into the kitchen, positively bouncing in his gait.

You blinked, staring at his retreating form before he disappeared from sight. When you looked back up, you met Husk’s confounded expression with your own.

“What the fuck was that?” Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

You let out a short laugh. “Didn’t you hear? He’s a _ mama's _ boy.” 

“Are you shittin’ me? You can tell just by looking at him.” He sneered. He didn’t continue, though. He didn’t seem to really care about anything to begin with. The biting curiosity wasn’t a first, though, you had come to witness.

“Why are you so surprised?” You scrunched your brows.

He huffed out a laugh, humorless and dry just like his personality. ”Like hell I am.” Husk muttered as he took yet another swing of his drink. The man drank his alcohol like water. You weren’t sure how he did it. 

Rest In Peace, his liver.

He idly watched the television, his ear rotated towards you. “He ain’t the type of prick to talk so openly about his mother.” He gave you some leeway. “Other than when talking about recipes.”

He was grumpy in general, but he seemed even grumpier when talking about Alastor or when he happened to be in the same vicinity as him. 

You looked at your hands then, twirling your thumbs. It was obvious that they had some sort of past together. “It feels so long ago that you were brought here by him, you know.” You weren’t sure what to think. Your emotions were so jumbled. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Do you have a past with him?” You blurted. 

He looked over at you with that same grumpy expression. “Yeah, I got a past with ‘im. Got the short end of the stick, too.” He paused. “Crimes for dimes, kid. Crimes for dimes.”

The judge came back on screen, ready to verbally decimate another case.You narrowed your eyes slightly. He made it seem like he was at Alastor’s beck and call. Which… you suppose would explain a lot. 

“How long have you known him?” You inquired.

“Longer than I care to admit.” He didn’t appear to want to talk about it further, considering his clipped response and how he turned back to face the television, ear and all.

You had always been open to the feline, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit… off with how he closed up when you questioned him. Frustrating. You guessed it was because he just didn’t give a shit most of the time. He was a husk of a man. But he at least seemed to care about you— but perhaps you were looking too much into it. 

You had a habit of doing that.

There were many times in fact you probably should have just turned off your brain, but that was never how that seemed to work. Never for you at least. As your gaze focused onto the screen, and the rather intriguing ways this judge settled her court, your mind drifted into deeper waters.

You were aware that there were not very many down here who had been as lucky as you had from the beginning.

Angel had brought you straight from the fall right to the hotel. You didn’t even want to think about what could have happened had you not been found by him. Or how you would have been able to survive without Charlie and the others… and though you hated to admit it, Alastor had his place too.

_ But mainly Charlie. _

She had been so kind, and entirely giving in ways that you were sure you hadn’t experienced before, at least not from someone who was not family. Charlie had been so good to you. It was because of her you had shelter, food, hell even _ spending _ money, and you were still paying her back, even though she never pressed you for anything.

She was a saint in this den of sin. And you knew that there had to be some way that you could do more for her. She was more than deserving of it. 

If there was any way you could actually… help her reach her dream, maybe then you could show her not only that you were more than willing to pay her back, but that you believed in her cause, her idea, and building a better future for this place.

The only problem you could think of with where your mind was now ruminating, was that you did not want to ascend. 

You didn’t want to go to a preppy Heaven, you didn’t want to leave your _ friends. _ If Heaven was truly all that good, then why did they exterminate? Why did they send you _ here? _It sounded more like a V.I.P party than an actual utopia of greatness. 

And how on Earth, were you going to tell her that without breaking her heart?

The sound of the kitchen door swinging open brought you out of your thoughts. You turned your attention to the origin of squeaking wheels and noticed that Alastor was steering the silver tray you had seen Charlie use yesterday to pass out treats.

He was humming a happy tune, and you swore his tail was wagging in happiness by the way his suit jacket fluctuated behind him. You laid your head against the arm rest and watched in curiosity as he made his way towards you.

You sat up and met Husk’s gaze, who only narrowed his eyes in both confusion and wariness. He probably thought he poisoned it. 

“Darling! I have pasta for you, aglio e olio!” He settled the cart next to you and handed you a bowl of nestled noodles that smelled _ heavily _ of garlic. It had sprinklings of parmesan and parsley. “Watch out for that creole kick though! I added extra pepper flakes and a secret!” He stood waiting for your approval. 

You eyed the cart and even saw a loaf of garlic bread.

You blinked in surprise, honestly taken aback by how _ elegant _everything looked in such a short amount of time. “...A secret?” You moved the fork around, looking for signs of danger. You squinted your eyes when you saw something yellow at the bottom of the bowl, and when you pressed a fork to it, it quacked. It was a rubber duck.

He put a rubber duck in your pasta.

You looked up at him in deep confusion.

“What, my little sharkling? Were you looking for signs of… _ Fowl _ play?” He had a shit-eating grin. That fucking laugh track encapsulated the immediate area. 

You were so done. 

At least it wasn’t an actual dead duck, and you could just pick it out, though. “But there is also a secret blend of spices in there. Don’t tell anyone!” He turned around and hummed as he swayed away. 

You grabbed the rubber duck and threw it as hard as you could at his retreating form, before settling back into your original position and looking at Husk. You took a bite of the garlic bread. “Insufferable?” You questioned.

“Insufferable.” He agreed, before taking another swig of his drink. 

You finally spun some pasta around your fork and brought it to your mouth. You were nervous, but it smelled good. 

You took a bite and were immediately angry. It was delicious. 

He just… it wasn’t fair that it was delicious. Hints of paprika, loads of garlic, a touch of parmesan and with the fresh bite of parsley. This wasn’t fair. He could cook, and you just knew that he _ knew _ it was good. He was a perfectionist, and that pissed you off to no extent because you couldn’t complain about it even if you tried. There wasn’t anything _ to _complain about. 

You hated him.

You angrily stuffed another bite into your mouth. It was fucking good. Bastard was gonna ruin pasta for you.

Whatever, you had bigger fish to fry than Alastor. He had toned down his efforts, settled for smaller things like a dish— but it was still heavily extravagant. There was a cloth underneath the plate of garlic bread, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to eat all of this in one sitting. 

You looked to Husk. “You want one?” You had tried one already, and yet he eyed it suspiciously. His nose twitched. 

“I wouldn’t touch what he made with a ten foot pole.” He looked like he was holding himself back, and you narrowed your eyes. 

You thought back on the time when he had tried to sneak a brownie from the stack. He was just stubborn and didn’t want to admit to the fact that Alastor made good food. You were on the same boat. “If I had made it, would you eat it?” 

He frowned at you. 

“Come _ on, _I already tried the pasta. It’s not poisoned. You can’t just drink and not eat.” You held out the crispy bread to him, and he grumbled under his mouth. 

“If I fuckin’ die again, I’m sueing.” He grabbed the bread and, after inspecting it with a claw, put it to his mouth and munched. If he liked it, he didn’t change his expression. But when he took a second bite, it was enough for you to speculate.

“I can’t believe he put a rubber duck in the food.” You huffed, bringing the noodles to your mouth again.

“He’s always getting a gag out of those dumbass jokes. He thinks he’s a _ big fuckin’ riot. _” He also was angrily eating the bread. Because such culinary artistry should not be stored is such a bastard shaped container.

You smiled into your pasta. He was right. Alastor was lame. _ And _ he made bad jokes. 

Nevertheless, the two of you watched television, and you noticed that when he had finished the prior piece of bread, he moved to snag another one before settling in to watch the show again. 

When you finished your meal, your stomach grumbled in appreciation and you huffed out. Even your body liked the food. When the episode ended, you rose, gathered the dishes, and made your way towards the kitchen. Husk returned to his outpost behind the bar.

You wheeled the little cart back into the kitchen, and loaded all of the dishes into the sink. You could knock these out while you were here, it was the least you could do considering Niffty was well, herself, cleaning everything within reach. 

You filled up the sink and noticed that Alastor hadn’t had the same thought. Whatever, if he cooked, you supposed you could clean this once. As you were wrist deep in suds, you allowed your thoughts to drift once more to Charlie.

You really _ did _ want to help her. 

You knew that there were more demons down here that were like yourself, there just _ had _ to be. You had already met Allie, oh man, _ Allie _. You hadn’t thought of her or seen her ever since the shitshow that was the teaparty. Alastor had scared her. She had been so kind. Not all demons seemed so scary. They really were just people like you who had fallen for not so terrible reasons. 

They had gotten the short end of the stick.

There had to be people who needed housing, some semblance of home, some who were willing to work for a room, or some who even wanted to get clean. Like that sheep demon that… Alastor’s shadow had scared away. She had said she wanted to learn more about the hotel. God damn it, he was scaring everyone away.

You stopped scrubbing for a minute, suddenly coming to an epiphany of just how you could help Charlie. How you could repay her for all she has done. 

You could help put the word out. The hotel needed some good press.

Some good advertising. And if you could remember anything about the surface, that was how to sell an idea! Capitalism had finally been able to give you something you could use. And you would use whatever knowledge you had, to help Charlie make her dream become a reality.

Now you just had to figure out a way to tell her.


	37. Back To The Drawing Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops.

You placed each dish in their proper place, biting your lip as you stood on your tippy-goes to reach an open slot for the bowls. For a hotel originally meant to house hundreds, there were innumerable dishes. Though, the ones that had rarely—if ever—been used, had begun to catch cobwebs towards the back. 

You couldn’t reach back there even if you tried, thus you relied heavily on the ones in the front.

The cabinets were long and seemingly endless, stacked with china and glasses that looked far more expensive than they needed to be. After coming to your realization of how exactly you were going to help Charlie, and in following, the hotel, your thoughts began to wander. In some way, in the deepest bowels of Hell, there had to be _ some _ direction you could go in to ensure that word could get out. 

To describe and flaunt the semi-peaceful place Charlie’s hotel offered. Of the walls that housed demons who, in some ways, wanted better than what these eternal flames of suffering and destruction could ever offer. Of all the different things that could stem just by stepping through the wide, stained-glass doors. For those who wished to be kinder, to find their place, just like you had begun to. 

Though, you weren’t sure how to get across to the porcelain demon just how desperately, while you wanted to help, you didn’t want to be the one to ascend. That single thought stemmed a spiral of uncertainty and panic to rise through you almost immediately, and you were glad you had finished cleaning up, because in any other case, you would have dropped what you were holding. 

What if that was all she had used you for? What if, at the end of the day, you had been manipulated into thinking that Charlie had been one of your closest—if not _ the _ closest—friends only to be backstabbed and thrown to the hounds when you expressed your desires? What if she got angry? _ Disappointed? _Oh, disappointment was so much more heavy and intense than anger. 

Nonsense. That speculation couldn’t be further from the truth. 

_ Unless it wasn’t. _

You shook your head with a deep set, brief, frown. You couldn’t have this conversation with that shitty part of yourself. In no way would you actually reach a positive or realistic ending if you did. You wouldn’t get _ anywhere. _If you wanted to ease your strain of worries and woes, you needed to actually converse with Charlie on the matter. 

Drying your hands, you nervously made your way towards the direction of their room. You had familiarized yourself with the majority of the hotel in your time spent there; but still, with a place as large as this, there were bound to be places you still hadn’t seen. 

Needless to say, you were enthralled with the idea that all of the rooms that the current inhabitants occupied were so close. With the idea of still being lazy fresh on your mind, you didn’t want to move any further than you had to. 

Of course, you could probably just go back to the lobby and watch that cheap, cheesy show again, but you knew that, deep inside you, that your mind would never give you the opportunity. Sometimes you wished you could just shut it off and just _ be. _But then again, that would be too much to ask for in a place such as this, wouldn’t it? 

As you turned down the hallway, you slammed face-first into a lithe, tall form. 

“‘Ey! Watch it, toots!” A sneer was heard as a gloved hand grabbed your shoulder and steadied you. Awkwardly, it remained there for a moment too long until you regained your footing and stared up at the effeminate arachnid with wide, surprised eyes. 

“Sorry. Lost in thought.” You murmured. 

He scoffed. “Well, yeah, obviously. You ain’t _that_ clumsy.” Actually, now that he thought about it, you were. He couldn’t exactly back pedal and say otherwise though, because then that would mean he had been wrong and if there was one thing about his persona, it was that he was _never _wrong. Well, most of the time. 

You awkwardly shuffled in place, before side-stepping him. What were you supposed to say? You had already apologized. He had spilled some of his secrets to you, but fled the scene soon after. You were sure he had his own stuff to deal with, and while you wanted to be there for him and help him out with his whole ordeal, you had your own to deal with. And then some more. 

“Wha— Hey! I wasn’t done speakin’ to...” He called from behind, and you stopped once he cut himself off, cringing. You knew _ immediately _what had cut him off. You could feel it by the way your hoodie had now been rolled up to around your hips to the normal positioning. 

Your head fell dramatically, along with the weight on your shoulders. Caught in the act. You couldn’t get away with it. You just wanted one day. _ One day _without being prodded at or made fun of in some way. But alas.

And then there was the moment you had been waiting for. The loud, boisterous laughter that made you bring your hands to your ears until it faded off. You heard a slam against the wall, and only when you looked behind you, did you see Angel leaning against said wall for support. 

He was laughing. Not at you, but at what you were wearing. 

At least, that’s what you hoped. 

When you deemed it safe to let your hands lest your ears bleed from the shrill sound of pure amusement and surprise, you watched as he took an exaggerated breath—mouth open and all—before wiping away a stray tear. Your face was dusted in a blush from sheer embarrassment. 

“What the fuck are ya wearin’? Turn back around, turn—“ he snickered as he strode towards you, “Turn back around.” He didn’t give you much choice, as you were forcefully turned back around so the spider could stare at your ‘Juicy’ ass. This was the exact reason you had attempted to cover it up. At least it was Angel Dust though, and not someone more embarrassing. 

God forbid Husk. 

Or Alastor. Oh boy, what a nightmare that would be.

“Charlie let me borrow it. I asked her for some clothes that I could just lounge around in.” You explained with a huff, crossing your arms. “Speaking of Charlie, I really gotta—“ 

You were cut off by the sound of a snapshot. The blood drained from your face. 

You whipped around and attempted to bat the phone _ immediately _out of his top set of hands without even looking. He held it up higher, as if you would have been able to reach anyway from your already stunted height in comparison to him. 

“_ANGEL!” _You yelled out in exasperation, and he peered down at you, a golden tooth glinting from how wide his smile was at that moment. 

He looked so smug. 

“Give it to me! That’s not funny!” You tried to reach up, fruitlessly.

“I dunno, toots, it’s fuckin’ hilarious to _ me _!” He laughed in your face. 

You fell back onto the balls of your feet in a grumble, “_ Fine.” _Before you stared directly at the door the two of you were standing in front of. Angel looked at it too for a long moment before realizing that it was Charlie’s. 

In that moment, the door opened with the said owner of the room. “What’s going on out here?” Charlie looked between the two of you curiously, and just as you were about to open your mouth to tattle on him, a loud _ ‘ugh’ _ resounded. You looked up at him expectantly, as he furiously swiped open his phone and _ seemingly _deleted the photo. 

And then he shoved it in your face too quick for you to accurately determine whether or not he had actually done said thing. You narrowed your eyes, and in turn, Charlie narrowed hers. And then Angel Dust as well, because apparently the two of you were hanging up on him now.

“_UGH!” _He threw out all four of his arms, “I hate this fuckin’ household.” A mutter. He went through again, slower this time, and then showed you that he had in fact deleted it. You nodded in satisfaction, and shot him back the same smug smile that he had given you. 

The tables had turned. 

He looked to Charlie then, “Ya don’t even know what’s goin’ on, Princess.” He sneered, crossing all four of his arms against himself. 

She turned to look at you. “Do I want to?”

You hesitated, before you turned around and showed her the disaster that were the gag gift from her father. You heard an audible gasp, and then a snicker from Angel again. After a moment, you faced her once more. 

Her hand was on her lips. “Oh, I—“ She couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “I am very sorry. That wasn’t, I didn’t—“ She tried to explain that she hadn’t meant to give you those but you nodded as you reached up to pat her on her shoulder. 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. 

“I’m sure I have another pair that doesn’t have that sort of thing on it. Come inside! Come!” She grabbed your wrist and pulled you gently into the room, offering Angel Dust a quick ‘goodbye’ and shutting the door in his face. 

Well, this was a way to kill two birds with one stone, you guessed. You still needed to talk to her. You _ were _glad, however, that Vaggie and her hadn’t been... busy when the situation had occurred. Said moth demon sat on the bed, full clothed in her normal attire (thankfully), and eyeing you in both confusion and curiosity. 

You didn’t even say a word, before you silently turned around and showed her, too. 

There was a muffled laugh. “Ayyy… pobrecita.” A sigh as you turned back around to see her rubbing her temples. 

Charlie was already sorting through the closet, and each pair of sweatpants that she pulled out, she checked and double checked. Eventually, she came out with another red pair and offered them to you before pointing to the bathroom. 

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing on them.” There was a blush across her face, entirely from embarrassment. “I’ll take them back when you’re done.” She pointed to the ones your were wearing. 

You nodded silently and went to the bathroom to get changed. 

The bathroom in itself wasn’t dramatically different from yours, but perhaps a bit more spacious considering it was meant to harbor more than one individual. Other than that, there wasn’t much to point out.

You made quick work with getting changed, already eager to get out of the pants so you wouldn’t have to worry about the most recent situation happening again. After rolling up the pant legs so they wouldn’t drag behind you, you slipped on your slippers again, and exited the bathroom.

“Oh, so much better!” Charlie beamed instantly, flashing you that bright, white smile of hers. When Vaggie didn’t say anything, too focused on a television show, the princess elbowed her gently. The moth demon blinked up at her in confusion before it clicked.

She looked to you, then at the sweatpants, then back to you.

“Yeah, looks great.” Vaggie gave a thumbs up, and while she was a little less enthusiastic, in comparison to the exuberant out-of-place literal disney princess, you couldn’t blame her. You weren’t exactly the type to fish for compliments either, especially in a lazy outfit such as this. 

And then you remembered.

“Oh, uh,” you started, suddenly anxious. “I was… wondering if I could talk to you.” You offered Charlie the inappropriate pants as you lowered your voice in the process. She took them from you and placed them on a lounging chair for the moment. The blonde appeared surprised for the briefest time, before she nodded curtly. 

“Sure!” She chirped, before eyeing Vaggie. “Does it need to be alone, or?” 

You looked to said demon for a moment, and eased the tension in your neck slightly as you shook your head. “No, you can stay if you want.” She was Charlie’s lover after all.

To have the mental and physical support for a conversation like the one you were about to bring to the table, was something you were relieved Charlie had. Not only that, but Vaggie just so happened to be the public relations person as well. Perhaps you could bond over _ that _, somehow. 

Vaggie nodded and settled back into the spot she had been before, which just so happened to be snuggled under the sheet. She had always been the pent up type of person, and you couldn’t help but feel it a bit uncharacteristic to see her so relaxed. But she was now, and you supposed that was a good sign at the end of the day.

“Um,” You hesitantly took a step forward before settling yourself on the side of the bed so that you were between the two of them. Perhaps you had done something subconsciously to bring attention to your building anxiety, but you did notice that Charlie had glanced to Vaggie in a bout of concern. 

“Did something happen?” Charlie inquired, rubbing her arm. 

Vaggie stiffened, sitting up. “If that imbécil de radio did something again—“ She cut herself off with a sneer, her expression darkened considerably. You looked to her in half surprise, half realization of what this all must have looked like. 

“Huh? Uh, no. Well, I _ mean,”. _ You tilted your head, your small smile throwing off the intensity of the sudden conversation. Your look said it all: When was he _ ever _good? Despite him toning it down, he was still Alastor. 

That would never change. 

With a soft sigh, you mentally prepared yourself for the worst and voiced your concerns: “I came to talk to you about the possibility of…” you whispered the last part so quietly that Vaggie and Charlie shared _ another _look.

“Sorry, what?” Charlie inquired, giving you a confused and apprehensive glance as she leaned in just slightly. 

“...Not being the one that goes to Heaven.” You repeated, and looked away. You couldn’t look at her face. Couldn’t stand to see the disappointment gathered and the loss of a dream.

Charlie blinked in confusion for a brief moment before your words processed inside her. A small ‘oh’ escaped her before she said your name slowly, and reached out a hand. She placed it in your line of sight, should you need the support.

“What happened to you doesn’t make you a bad person,” she eased, “...if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

You frowned before you sucked it up and turned to face her once more. “No, that’s not it, Charlie.” You expressed, “I just..” a pause. “I just think that Hell is better than Heaven.” You blurted. You made a face. You must have sounded like a dumbass, 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You know…” She started, opening her mouth before shutting it again. You could physically see her try to formulate the best response. “I don’t think you’ve seen the other parts of Hell to make such a claim.” Her words were gentle, but still held the seriousness that told you that Hell wasn’t a place to mess around in.

“That’s not what I’m saying— Hell is bad.” A beat, “_ Really _ bad.” You paused as you attempting to figure out what to say next; _ how _to say what you wanted to say. “But what you told me of Heaven doesn’t sound any better.” You said softly, your eyes falling onto your lap once more.

“It sounds like a snobby golf club where people follow blindly without a choice. One wrong move and you’re down here again. There’s no point! I don’t want to live my afterlife making sure I don’t fuck it up, trip, and fall back down. At least down here you have a _ choice. _And I—” your word vomit forced you to take a breath after a moment. 

“What are you trying to say, hun?” Vaggie offered, eyeing you with a surprising amount of concern. 

You took a deep breath. “I want to help make Hell a better place.” Hesitantly, you looked back up.

A smile spread over Charlie’s face. “So… does this mean you want a promotion?” She started bouncing on the bed (that she had found herself on during your rant) as her smile turned into a wide grin. You felt a wave of relief roll across your body, and with that, you let out a loud exhale. 

“I mean, I can’t really help make Hell a better place by _ cleaning _,” you laughed softly.

Charlie beamed at you. “I don’t know, we really could use some janitorial services down here... but that’s beside the point! What do you want to do!? Vaggie is head of public relations, so what do you—” 

Vaggie reached out a hand and placed it on Charlie’s shoulder. “Cariña, _ slow down _, let her get it all out first.”

The princess visibly deflated. “...Right. You’re right! Sorry, you were saying?” Her eyes were wide and enthusiastic. You doubted you had ever seen her smile so wide. 

You looked over at Vaggie. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get this far. “...I could help with advertising?” You sounded unsure. You just wanted to help, though.

Charlie gasped and began bouncing again. “That’s a _ great _ idea! We need someone in charge of advertising! Ohh! This is so exciting! We can make posters, and flyers, billboards! _ OHH _ we could make a commercial!” She stopped once more as Vaggie squeezed her shoulder. 

You smiled. “We can start with flyers?” You hopped off of the bed then, stretching. Charlie was practically buzzing with excitement. Honestly, you were more than relieved that you hadn’t crushed her dreams— no, you were going to help them get realized.

Charlie squealed. “I mean, this opens so many possibilities!” Her eyes lit up. “Alright, we’ll get started right away tomorrow and brainstorm! Make sure you rest up tonight! This is going to be so much fun!” She jumped off of the bed then.

Vaggie let out a quiet sigh, but there was a deep fondness in her eyes as she looked at Charlie.

You rubbed the back of your neck. “I’ll um, see you tomorrow then.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitance as Charlie practically dove onto you for a hug. “Bright and early!” She chirped in your ear. You couldn’t have said you were surprised, because you weren’t. You could have seen the hug coming from a mile away, and upon her finally wrapping her arms around you, you buried your head under her chin and squeezed her back. 

If you hadn’t been the one to pull away, you were sure the hug would have lasted for the rest of eternity. “Do I come _ here _in the morning, or…?” You looked between Vaggie and Charlie. The moth demon nodded, and Charlie followed suit in explanation. 

“Oh sure! We can have it in here!” You couldn’t remember a time seeing Charlie so ecstatic about something. “I’ll get donuts for us ladies, too! Alastor never shows up for the manager meetings anyway!” Once again, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, practically glowing and beaming. 

At _ that _ name, however, you sighed dramatically. Vaggie shot you a tickled expression. 

“Speaking of,” you muttered. “I need to go find him and return the broom.” You still didn’t consider it _ yours. _You had only ever accepted it on the hotel’s behalf. Perhaps the broom could go to Niffty; she had been the one who actually deserved it. “See you tomorrow. Or later tonight. Or… later.” You would bump into them eventually, just for the sole reason of living with them. 

Whisking out of the room, you made your way to yours, got the broom in record timing that just so happened to be conveniently positioned against the wall, and whisked off to find wherever Alastor was. You couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous doing so, perhaps even anxious. You weren’t sure how well he would take ‘quitting’ on him, but you had already made your decision, and you were stubborn enough to stick by it.

You made your way up to where his room was; after all, it was a pretty good starting point. The hallway that lead to his room had always been eerie, but now that you had a mission, you barely noticed such things. Barely noticed the way that the lights flickered with the intention of dousing the dimly lit hall in darkness. Barely noticed the wall that the shadows crept upon the walls. When you approached the door, you knocked on it twice and mentally prepared yourself for disaster.

It didn’t take long for the door to open with a flourish. It never ceased to amaze you how staggeringly tall he was; in fact, he almost completely encompassed the entirety of the doorway with his person. Upon spotting you, you could quite literally see the transition to one of excitement.

“Darling!” He chimed, “What brings you to visit on this joyous day?” 

You were entirely certain he would have said something more if you hadn’t looked down to the broom and pushed it towards him without warning. “I have a new job.” And you’re not my boss, anymore. You decided not to say that last part, for you were already walking on thin ice just by interacting with him.

There was silence, and upon looking back up at him, you noted the way his eyes had narrowed. Unraveling his arms from behind his back, he put one finger on the handle of the broom and pushed it back towards you. “I have no use for this broom, sweetheart!” He declared. “ And I gave it to _ you _.”

“I only accepted it on the hotel’s behalf.” You stubbornly rebutted. You pushed it back towards him once more. “I don’t have a need for it anymore, either.”

“...Ah, yes.” He hummed, his grin twisted into a suspicious one. “...On the hotel’s behalf.” He squinted down at you before just as quickly returning to his quick mannerisms. “Speaking of, it’s terribly unprofessional to not give me any notice! Just how ever will I replace such a wonderful employee as yourself? _ You are my favorite, after all! _” He pushed the broom back towards you once again with a bit more force.

Your heart lurched uncomfortably as you watched the corner of his eye twitch. However, the discomfort of the situation dramatically transitioned into one of a light atmosphere, thankfully, as a movement from your peripherals caught your attention. You immediately grinned at seeing who was cleaning down the hall.

You leaned a hand on your hip, looking at the excited, enthusiastic cleaner. “I don’t think you’ll need to find a replacement.” 

He feigned a gasp. “How cruel! To leave Niffty to clean this massive hotel all by her lonesome?” He turned his attention back to you, then. “Oh, how could you be so cold!” He put his hand on his heart, leaning down to make sure his face was directly in front of yours as if truly trying to get you to understand how dramatic he was. As if he weren’t dramatic all the time, no matter the day or situation.

You deadpanned, moving a hand up to grasp at his face and push him away from you. You messed up his monocle and hair during the process, just because he was so fucking dramatic. But at least he was taking it a lot better than you thought he would. Then again, you were rarely able to read him appropriately. An enigma. A mystery. “Relax.”

He immediately began to fix his hair and monocle, smoothing out his suit jacket with a scoff, as if you had just offended him. “How can I relax when you are going to be finding employment elsewhere! Have I been an unsatisfactory manager?” Nevertheless, he still remained bent at the waist, close to you.

“_ Yes _.” You laughed a single note. “Besides, I’m still working at the hotel.”

“Doing what?” Nosey. There was curiosity in his tone and as he straightened out, you noticed how his ears tilted, pivoting to point themselves in a direction that they would hear you best. 

“Not cleaning.” A murmur. It was fun to mess with him. Who knew a man who wore a grin almost eternally could be so expressive? In some weird way, it intrigued you to some degree. Before he could respond, you called Niffty’s name.

The little cleaner immediately looked up with a round, large, singular eye. 

Upon spotting you and her manager, she gasped and hurried down the hall at the speed of sound. She was a blur, and before you could blink, she was in front of the two of you.

“Hi! How are you? You didn’t ask, but I’m as good as ever! Ohh man! You’re using all the cool tools too? Aren’t they just so _ cool?” _She bounced around you excitedly, pointing at the broom. You realized that perhaps it would be a bit too big for her, and you glanced at Alastor. His claws twitched at his sides before he brought on up and waved it around the handle of the broom. 

It shrunk in your grip to better suit Niffty’s stunted height. 

You looked down at her again then, satisfied as you bent down and offered it to her. “Here.”

She looked _ shocked _as if you had just offered her a check for a million dollars. 

“Are you giving it to me!?” She gasped out, and the next thing you knew, she was grabbing at it. “I’ve never had a broom before! They’re always too big! Oh, wow! Look at this, ooh... ” She ran her little demon fingers up the coolness of the obsidian. 

She was endearing, it was true, but too energetic for you. It was difficult to catch everything she said. “Yeah, it’s for you.”

She stopped, then. “So what are _ you _ going to use!? Did you buy something that you like more? Did Alastor give you something better?” When you were about to respond, she continued on, not giving you the chance.

“I’m not sure what would be better than a broom, but oh boy! Oh boy! You know, he has _ all of these plans _ in his room! Ohh man, they’re all so nice! I think! I don’t understand some of them, but I wish _ I _ had a man like that! _ We really need more men in the hotel! _” She looked up at him with a large grin and frantic eye, and when you saw Alastor try to shut the door, you pushed a hand against the door to stop him, immediately.

He had gone still in such a development, perhaps even by the surprise and shock of what Niffty had just spilled, and ultimately allow you to storm past him and into his room. 

It was your first time actually seeing it. 

You really should have paid attention when you had first walked in, when you had been so pissed and stormed in the first time. The floor was covered in mist from the swamp, ultimately keeping his room warm. If you weren’t careful, you would have gotten your borrowed pants wet, and your slippers. 

Cat-tails and willows were lining the space. The half of the room that was a swamp, appeared to be endless. As for the other half, there were innumerable carefully carved wooden furniture pieces. It all looked extravagant embellished with all the curves carved into the legs of the furniture. Everything was laden in cushions and stuffed to the brim. There was red velvet _ everywhere. _

You gawked. You weren’t sure if it was an illusion of some kind, or _ what, _but it probably ranked high on your list of the weirdest shit you had ever seen down here. “What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself. Oh, you had not been observant at all in your previous time there. You really needed to work on that.

But then, just in front of a high backed chair and rounded table, was a large chalkboard with all sorts of writing on it and diagrams, labeled: ‘How to Woo (like a normal person?)’ 

‘Person’ had been crossed out and had Demon written underneath. That too had been crossed out once more, only to have _ PERSON _ in bold lettering scrawled beneath _ that _.

You took a step forward, just a _ single step, _ before you looked back with the most confused expression you had ever managed and probably ever _ would _ manage. 

Alastor’s eyes were wide, arms disappeared behind his back. “What?” 

You blinked at him, once, twice. Niffty had also gone silent. “What? _ What? _ Why do you have a _ swamp _ in your _ room _?” You motioned towards it. And a board regarding how to woo you? You didn’t comment on that part. One thing at a time.

“It calms me. Why don’t you have a swamp in _ your _ room?” He rolled his eyes.

“Because I’m a...” You walked over to the board, picked up a piece of chalk, and underlined ‘normal person’ over and over again. 

“Darling! Don’t do that, I’ve been working very hard on that!” You heard the sound of his shoes hitting the floor, signifying that he was nearing you and, when he reached over and tried to take the chalk from you, you spun back around and crossed your arms in a huff. But you let him have the chalk.

In your stunned silence, you turned around and noticed all the writing on the board. There were plans underneath, some crossed out, some underlined, and a whole lot of question marks.The line ‘give her your heart’, had a multitude of notes next to it:

-Making it beat was bad, do not repeat!

-Is not fond of organs, it is recommended to never use.

-Doesn’t like it when there are surprises in her room. Clothes, or roses.

-Gets angry when things go wrong. Be patient, or it will get worse!

-Enjoys space! But I hate space, so _ sometimes _space will happen. (Hate was underlined repeatedly.)

Your jaw hung open.

“You’re _studying _me?” You breathed out, your eyes wide as you scanned some diagrams that you didn’t understand. You couldn’t tear them off of the board. You were more confused and stunned than annoyed. “...Why?” 

“I wasn’t getting anywhere before so I started taking notes. It’s a more… scientific approach.” He explained warily.

“A more scientific approach.” You repeated, before you looked back at him. He appeared in a state that was akin to something of nervous nature. “Okay…” You sighed, rubbing your temples before moving away from the board. 

“A lot of these observations are without context, Alastor.” You motioned towards it after a moment of pacing.

“Yes, I am aware, but I do not understand all of your reactions. The information is blank, because of that.” He folded his hands together in front of him, and you watched as he squinted at the plans in a scrutinizing manner; and your eyes fell to the plans once more in silence.

There was a semblance of warmth in your chest from the thought that he really _ was _ trying. You looked back over at him. “What do you want to know?” You sighed. You noticed then that Niffty was nowhere to be seen; most likely having gone to return to her job.

“Ah, yes!” He sat down on a chair that had appeared from thin air, and pulled out a desk from… nowhere. “Why have you always gotten so angry after my attempts?” He inquired, grabbing an old quill and inkwell. There were papers sprawled out before him. “Don’t be shy now, I need specifics!” He nodded towards you, signing that he was ready for whatever you had to tell him about how to woo like a normal person.

You laughed in disbelief. He was so… _him._ You had given up wondering why he did what he did a long time ago. “Because after all of the things you have done to me,” You started, taking a step forward. 

“Without apology name you, without any recognition that you had done innumerable fucked up things to keep my attention, it didn’t come across as _ wooing _.” You paused. “But instead obsessive, calculating, and without any other motive than to see me fall under the pressure you have set on me.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t apologize… at least not in the ways you are used to. And if you would be so kind, I really do need the specifics, darling! I have been unable to figure it out on my own.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by specifics? I _ was _ specific.” 

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, hovering the quill above the paper. “What are the messed up things you keep saying I did to get your attention?” He explained. “Why were they messed up?”

He really didn’t know. Holy fuck. You placed your hands on the desk, before you reached over and placed your hand over his. Your eyes were narrowed as you grabbed it, just as you rounded the side of the table, only to dig your nails harshly into his palm. “You licked my hand, you--” _ did this, but with your damn tongue. _

He nodded once more, before he tugged, softly. It was a silent request for you to release him. “I need to write this down, dear.” 

You let him go, before strolling behind him and looking over his shoulder at his writing. “You did _ this _ to me.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and dug your nails into them. “It doesn’t feel too good, does it?” You sneered.

“To be honest, I can’t really feel all too much through my clothes, _ but,” _He held up a claw, pausing in his writing for a moment. “I can see how you could have been uncomfortable.” He started writing away again, and you watched with an inquisitive gaze as he jotted down: Try to be gentle, she is delicate.

You released your hold on him before huffing. “I’m not delicate, I could beat you in an arm-wrestling challenge, I bet.” You poked at his arm, “I mean, they’re really thin!” A grin. He could also whoop your ass, and you were more than aware of it. You were just feeding the fire at this point.

“Of course darling,” You could hear the eye-roll in his voice as he brushed you off. “These are just my personal notes, do feel free to go on.” 

An exhale was released as you returned to his side once more. “What you did was you made me feel like I didn’t have a choice,” You began. “You were my shadow, I couldn’t get away from you. When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone. You didn’t. No, instead you kept pestering me, on and on and _ on—” _

“That’s it darling! Pestering! But how! What were the things you absolutely detested!” He interrupted, looking down at you. “I wish to never repeat them, so, once more, please.” His eyes had taken on that softness that they had when you both had been outside. “Be _specific_. I should like to not have you angry with me again if I can help it.”

“That’s inevitable.” You sighed. He couldn’t change who he was. But if he wanted specifics, then specifics he would receive.

“You licked my hand when I bled, you locked us both in a closet and lied to keep me in there with you. You had that weird shadow monster follow me, you _ sent _ your shadow with me when I went out. You scared someone that was interested in the hotel, Alastor! You put a beating heart on a table, you gave me a bouquet of roses that _ died _ when I touched them, you gave me a matching costume when I told you to stop with all of that, you go into my room without my permission--” You took a deep breath. “And you _ NEVER _ listen to me! You ignore everything I request unless it stands with what _ you _ feel is best.” You ended by looking down at the paper with wide eyes. “Is that specific enough?”

You weren’t angry, more so heated about having to recall such detestful memories. 

He leaned forward, bobbing his head rapidly. “Yes actually! This is wonderful! It seems I have much more work to do darling! I had no idea you found it all so repulsive, I thought those flowers had been charming, it was the unique transformation that you found so off-putting, correct?” He was moving in a frenzy in order to write it all down, like a dutiful student.

“...Yes.” You hesitated with the answer. 

“Hmmm, fascinating! I thought they had been lovely, of course, showing how you had been apart from me in life, but brought together after your unfair demise.” He explained, and you made a face.

“I thought it was rather poetic, you see! But I suppose that was ruined by my invasion of your privacy! I do try not to go in your room anymore. It’s been rather difficult to see you so often without being privy to your space, but! I believe I have made excellent progress!” His chest was puffed out proudly then, before he paused. 

“And you don’t like… beating hearts. Why’s that? I was told hearts were romantic. It was fresh even!” He pointed the quill at you, eyes imploring you to understand that he had not meant to frighten you, grin toothy, but less threatening and more, dare you say it, _ adorable_. 

He had always been so _quick. _If you didn’t completely surround yourself with his presence, you had the chance of missing something important. He always spoke so fast when excited over something. “Not real hearts.” The words left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Can I have the quill?” 

“Of course, here you are! Be sure you get enough ink in it!” He handed it over to you, eager to see what you were going to do.

You took it out of his hand, tracing your finger over the feather for a moment before dipping it in the ink. You moved towards the paper and drew a heart, before handing him the quill back and leaning back. “That’s the heart they were talking about.”

“That’s not a heart.” He sneered, well as well as one could sneer with a grin still on his face. “That is a bumpy equilateral triangle. Real hearts look nothing like that abomination.” He narrowed his eyes at the little drawing. “This means nothing.” 

“Actually,” you took a deep breath. “That ‘bumpy equilateral triangle’ does have meaning. There’s two ideas on where the shape could come from.” Your voice had also grown excited, listing off facts that had been laid dormant in your mind, only to resurface in the most absurd situations. 

“One is that they’re two hearts faced towards each other,” you held out your hand for the quill again, and once it was passed to you, you outlined the two hearts that faced each other. You closed your eyes as you chatted away, surprised that this knowledge was prevalent in your mind despite, you know, losing the majority of your memory. 

“Another idea is that in ancient Egypt, there were seeds that were eaten in efforts to control pregnancy— they were ancient birth control pills—and those seeds were in the shape of the heart.” Maybe you should talk about absurd topics more. “But it’s up to you which one you want to believe.” It was almost like your memory was coming back. At least, bits and pieces. It probably wasn’t, but you could hope.

Then again, did you even really want it to?

“If I had two beating hearts, you wouldn’t have been so upset?” His head quirked to the side, his ears flopping cutely in his confusion. 

You looked to him with a quirked brow. “No beating hearts.”

“So it’s still a no on the organs.” His grin disappeared into a lipped smile, signifying his disappointment.

“_ Alastor _ .” You squinted your eyes suspiciously, and perhaps, just _ perhaps, _a bit playfully.

“Right, of course! How silly of me.” He seemed dispirited. “And you don’t like it when living things… transform into dead ones?” He sounded almost hopeful. He was persistent, you would give him that. 

You leaned back— it was striking how tall he was in comparison to you. Even sitting, he was a few inches taller. “Context matters.” You murmur.

“Right. Context. Of course… And you still are averse to having me in your closet?” His eyes were wide now, searching your face.

Your silence should have been an answer enough. 

“I should think it very lovely if _ I _ were to find _ you _ in my closet!” He bat his lashes at you and leaned forward happily.

You remained still, but the proximity instinctively made your cheeks warm. You didn’t notice. You just felt _ warm. _“W-why do you want to be in my closet?” You choked out, less confident than you wanted to be.

“Why else would I want to be in your closet, you silly creature? It smells like you in there!” He extended a hand to playfully boop you on your nose. 

He was so weird. “You’re weird.” Because he deserved to know. Your voice was without venom, though— in fact, they had a subconscious twinge of softness. If you had known, you would have jumped out of a two-story building. But you didn’t. So you wouldn’t.

“And there are times I find you to be strange, and yet, I cannot help but find you utterly breathtaking.” He hummed. “But, here we are.” A clawed hand motioned towards the papers. “I appreciate you taking the time to let me know in depth what not to do. It certainly puts things in perspective!” 

He turned to fully face you then. “Though I can’t apologize for it, because if I hadn't done those reprehensible things, we wouldn’t be here now, and for that, I will be eternally thankful.” His eyes were locked on yours, his smile had turned soft and his hand slipped cautiously around your own on the quill. 

Your chest felt heavy.

The heat in your cheeks had grown in intensity, and despite the winter air outside, you felt uncomfortably warm. You didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what you were feeling, you wanted to continue to push the fact that you were just confused. That everything that had happened had gotten to the point where you were overwhelmed, but the moment his hand wrapped around yours, a noise that got stuck in your throat fluttered forth. 

For a moment, you fought yourself on whether to pull away, you fought yourself on feeling what you were feeling, even though it confused you to no end. But you didn’t. You relaxed your grip on the quill and let it fall from your hold and onto the paper. 

You suddenly felt nauseated.

“Darling, are you alright? You seem to be at a loss for words?” His hand came up to cradle your cheek gently, heeding the danger of his claws. His thumb stroked lovingly at the skin beneath your eye. His eyes told you how concerned he was, as did the close-lipped smile, and the gentle shape his brows were making as he focused intently on you. 

The coolness of his hand, compared to the heat on your face had you leaning into him _just barely. _Your thoughts were rampaging, you felt nauseated and sick and warm and giddy and you fucking hated it. “...No.” You whispered against his palm.

You could physically see himself holding back. 

“If I were to ask you a question, would you answer it honestly?” He inquired gently.

You didn’t want to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your curiosity truly knew no limits. “Sure.” Your eyes squinted in uncertainty.

_ “May I kiss you?” _


	38. Talk Some Sense To Me

The silence that followed lingered in the air like a thick, heavy quilt; or perhaps even a rich, condensed fog. 

The world shattered around you as your eyes widened in the process of fruitless attempts to process his query. Your brain stuttered, the cogs in your mind not quite turning fast enough as your body became rigid and motionless. 

You gazed upon him as if he had spoken in a language that you had not quite understood; as if one wrong move would misinterpret all of his actions, words, and desires into something else completely. 

You supposed, though, that was the bonus of having low expectations. Nothing surprised you anymore.

His hand felt cool against your cheek, and you undoubtedly found yourself to be sure that you had never been more red than you were in that very moment. There were fragments of thoughts as time fought to catch up with you. A heart fluttered within a chest; until you realized that it was your own. Bringing such comprehension to light only furthered the action as your lips parted slightly to accentuate your speechlessness. 

Other than a chill that would have originally made your skin crawl, the understanding of what he was _ asking, _ made your blood boil. Made your heart lurch and a thousand species of aerial creatures to take wing in your stomach. He was asking if he _ could _kiss you. He wasn’t rushing in and doing it for his own gain nor pleasure; he took the patience needed and the initiative to ask for your consent. Your chest felt constricted as you were forcefully pushed to make a decision. Your breath caught in your throat.

You searched desperately for something reasonable to say. 

“W-what?” You whispered against his palm. Yeah, that’ll do. A furious storm of anxiousness and warmth ran havoc through your body. You watched in uncertainty as he closed his eyes, only to feel the sensation of the pads of his fingers gently caress your heated cheek. His smile still toyed upon his lips, and for the briefest of moments, he almost looked peaceful. 

“Should you say no,” His lips parted—you were so focused on his lips—as he murmured, “I completely understand, and will back away.” There was a pause. “For the moment at least.” If you weren’t so frazzled, you would have pulled away right then and there from the egotistical comment that was _ entirely _ unneeded. “But, I would very much enjoy pressing my lips against yours. You look so lovely with blush scattered over your cheeks.” His expression remained the same: calm, cool, and collected.

The exact opposite of yours.

Your mouth opened, and then closed, unsure of how to articulate an actual response before you found yourself nodding, just barely, into his hand. You watched as a singular eye peeked open to look down at you. 

“Was that a yes, little darling?” He slipped his hand to carefully grasp the back of your neck. When you felt his hand on your skin, a near infinite amount of chills ran up your spine. You bit your bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth for a moment in sheer hesitation. The smoothness of his glove only aided in your desire to be rid of the heat that now pooled upon your neck and the entirety of your face.

You really couldn’t get an easy ticket here. Your thoughts had begun to quiet, the only ambience that of the swamp and the radio silence that clung to him like a shadow. You really should stay silent and not respond. Rooted to the spot, uncertain, and wrapped up in your dazed mind of surprise. You _ really _ shouldn’t say anything, you fucking idiot. “...Yes.” Oh my god, you _ didn’t. _You couldn’t believe yourself.

You wanted him to kiss you.

His smile remained as it always did, just as his desk disappeared spontaneously. He slid his other arm down your side and wrapped it around your waist, and you found yourself being led to stand in the middle of his legs, nestled just between his thighs. You were rigid until the moment he brought his mouth to your ear, the breath wavered against the flesh. Your eyes were trained on the red of his suit jacket, in your attempt to find a place to focus your gaze on. 

“Thank you.” He breathed. 

You released a shaky, soft sigh upon feeling his lips trail across your skin as he dragged his cheek along yours. You were nervous, rightfully so, because despite having had been kissed by him once before, it was now with your consent and would void the original in your mind. 

Upon reaching the corner of your mouth, he pressed a delicate and perhaps even shy kiss upon it, before lining them completely up with yours. 

And then, when the distance was closed, you shut your eyes. Your heart had sped up to a point of discomfort, your emotions amplified due to such a closeness, by such intimacy; even as he pressed his lips firmly, but softly, to yours. You remained motionless for the longest of moments. Uncertain. Wary. Confused. Disoriented. 

And yet, despite not longing to feel so vulnerable, you parted your lips and kissed him back.

You didn’t want to feel the way you were feeling, so painfully conscious of everything that was going on. From the soft but firm feeling of each glide of his lips upon yours to the aftertaste of him that still burned. Soft. Gentle. Slow. Saturated in caution and the overwhelming sensation of warmth. It was an odd thing to do, to kiss someone without the experience needed to do it… _ correctly _. 

It was all rather messy, to be quite honest. There was no experience tied to the closeness that you two were sharing, and so it felt a lot more awkward, as if you two were meeting on business terms and simply shaking hands. You were both urgently trying to figure out how to do it correctly, inexperienced all the while. 

Though, the longer such an experience persisted, the more of an accurate grasp you got upon it.

The more you began to relax. The more you began to just _ be, _instead of a kaleidoscope of innumerable and indecipherable thoughts. At least, only for the moment. And for that moment, as the world fell away, you found yourself slipping into the false sensation of security and tranquility.

You had always wondered what it meant when stories said ‘melting into a kiss’, and now you knew.

The scent of him clouded your entire being as he pulled away with a sigh, your breaths mingled. When you reopened your eyes, you were greeted with the overwhelming sight of red as he leaned back up. You blinked, once, twice, attempting to readjust to the lighting in the room from your previous lack of it before you felt his lips press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

There was a hum against your skin, and you found yourself closing your eyes once more, the stimulation of the previous kiss still buzzing around inside you.

“_Lovely creature,_” he murmured hotly against your skin. His breath was so warm. “Take care of my heart, would you? I fear I’ve lost it completely.” 

You felt his fingers cradle the back of your head, his other arm securely wrapped around your waist as his hand flexed in his movements. Your heart rate had evened out just enough so that it wasn’t overbearing, your eyes scanning his attire for the longest of moments before you had the confidence to tilt your head and gaze up at him. 

Your temperature wavered between a comfortable and uncomfortable warmth; a direct outlook on the way your emotions too, were battling with each other.

It was good, it was bad. It was great, it was horrible.

He was taller than you even while sitting, ridiculous bean pole, and for the first time in what felt like forever, your thoughts had silenced. And it had been because you had kissed him. It had been because you let your guard down for the briefest of moments and offered him your vulnerability.

You knew of your own fragility, knew of how bad of an idea this was, knew of the incomprehensible thoughts that plagued your mind because of _ him. _

And yet, despite what denial you wanted to desperately hold onto, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck, loosely, and pull him back down. 

He bent for you like a willow tree in the wind, completely at your will and desire. You were chasing the promise of prolonging the lack of your rampaging thoughts for as long as possible. You hated that _ he _was the one you were finding method in in all of your madness. 

“I…” You whispered shakily, your breath fanning over his jaw. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” A whisper, your eyes were wide as you searched his expression for whatever answer he would be willing to offer you. Alas, he did not seem to know, either. “I don’t _ want _to understand. I don’t want—” You paused, your gaze drifting down to his lips for a moment. “...To feel this way.” But here you were. 

And in the grand scheme of things, you _ were _ feeling that way. You didn’t know _ what _you were feeling, but like hell you weren’t! 

It wasn’t good, it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great, it wasn’t awful. Somewhere, deep inside, you wanted to believe that all of this would just go away, that you would be able to continue on without him ruminating in your mind. And yet, you were also painfully aware that that would never be the case. 

You just didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to come to terms with the truth after all the shit he had put you through. Alas, your luck always seemed to be at rock bottom, for try as you might, your lips still hovered over his own so each word could be felt. 

“So help me forget.” A whisper as you placed a soft kiss upon his lips, cautious, feather-light. You pulled away just as fast, your breath heavy and uncertain. These actions only made you fall into a deeper state of nervousness as well as a brand new bewilderment of thoughts. Your mind was already buzzing in confusion and... something else_, _yet when he spoke, he only tripled them by the thousands. 

“Now that just won’t do,” He rested his forehead to yours, eyes shut. “...For I would very much like to remember this moment for the rest of eternity.” You felt his hands roam upwards, tracing over the supple curve of your back from your current position. The distance was closed once more as his lips pressed against yours; and in doing so, a sound that resembled a coo reverberated from the depths of his throat. 

When he parted his lips, you mimicked the action; if only to better mold them together.

Your eyebrows were knitted, even as your own eyes were shut. What happened to never kissing him? What happened to detesting the thought that you had gone through so recently? It was too fast. Everything was going _too fast_. But it also felt so incredibly slow and warm and welcoming, unsure, uncertain, wary, shy, but _alright_. 

Your face also felt so unbearably _ hot, _ heated chills running up your spine and arms as you forgot everything you had ever been, everything that had ever bothered you, forgot who _ exactly _ it was you were literally making out with, and drowned yourself in the softness of the moment. The feeling. The incredible and irreplaceable insanity of it all. 

You had never been so lost in the whirlwind of emotions, your mind even having trouble concentrating on anything other than the kiss. Even the most basic of survival instincts had shut down, your brain running on autopilot despite feeling so _ aware. _You were conscious of everything, the sudden taste of bitter coffee, and perhaps even a bit of mint. 

_ Colhate. _

You began to become reliant on his grip to keep you upright, the tension of his thighs that encased you as you were pressed flush against his chest. Entirely unwilling of your escape. The sensation of the tympanic beats of his heart, so utterly quick and _ loud _that it was enough to give you the semblance of a foundation. It gave you something to focus on other than what you were doing. 

Something to help you process your own emotions; your own thoughts. 

There was a sensation of rigidness as you felt his claws grip your sides. Upon you subconsciously stiffening, a jump laden between the gaps, you felt the pads of his fingers return; as if _ he _ hadn’t even noticed his grasp had become so iron-clad until you had reacted. A militia of chills akin to that of a tsunami raced across your body. 

His lips had become pliant, moldable, against yours as the two of you lost your touch on reality. You weren’t sure when you had noticed, perhaps it had been when your fingertips twitched around his neck, gently toying with the strands of the shorter, darker hair that was so often hidden from view, that you had begun to realize just how tense he was. 

From his body language alone, you felt yourself falter in your confidence as you honed in on the subconscious signs. 

You had always been the type to be observant in that nature; always able to tell the differentiations of emotions through his facial features, where others may have just stated that he was happy simply because of his near-eternal smile. A land full of people with shallow ideas, all equally ignorant for judging a book by its cover. 

Such a heavy and delightful _ burden_. 

The moment that you had thought that the hesitation would conduct the majority of what would surely end in disaster, you felt the pressure upon your mouth retreat for the briefest of moments, not too far that your lips would separate completely. They were soft pecks, as if he were fighting with himself on what to do, but of course, that was mere speculation, for as much as you wanted to, you would never begin to understand that beautifully corrupt, chaotic mind. 

“_Darling,_” he murmured in a lulling voice as you felt the heaviness of his lips on yours once more. The weight around your waist was released as you felt him trail his gloved hands up your sides, slowly, cautiously, as if he were attempting to not frighten you away; coaxing you out of your hiding place. They weren’t smooth movements, but jittery, misplaced, wary. _ Panicked_. You could feel the tension in his shoulders as you rested your arms upon them.

When his hands gently encased your arms and carefully tried to pry you from him, you allowed such a feat to be done. 

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing yourself; you weren’t sure of when, or how, but you were _ here _and that was all the mattered, really. You were relieved to have him remove your arms from him, because if he hadn’t, you were entirely certain that the two of you would have never escaped this limbo. 

And yet, you still received an abundance of mixed signals, for once more, his lips were gentle upon yours. But his actions also indicated that he wanted it to… stop? 

Did he want to stop? Did _ you _want to stop? 

You were so bewildered by the turn of events that, in your muddled, puzzled mind, you didn’t think of to audibly question it, but instead physically do it. You placed a questioning kiss to his bottom lip when he pulled away. 

It was hard to convince yourself that you were the one that had initiated the second bout of kisses; that you had willingly put your face anywhere near his, even more so that you had offered him that level of vulnerability. This was just the icing on the cake of everything that was wrong and _ right_. 

You were at war with yourself over what to feel. It was so… _ confounding. _You were very confused. And stressed. 

Constressed. 

You hesitated to hear his words when he at last separated for good. A sensation of loss and longing bubbled low in your chest, and there was a moment of hesitation before you came to the realization that you had actually _ liked _kissing him.

That you wanted his lips on yours again. That you wanted to feel the sense of adrenaline that he had caused in you that was just beginning to die down. Your mouth was parted, your breath shallow but heavy as you reigned in on the overstimulation. 

“This is more than I ever hoped for, but I am quite unsure of how to...” The rumble of his voice, the breath of his own wafting and cooling your heated flesh; despite his too being exceptionally warm. “I have never shared such a heated moment with another,” You could visibly see him swallow his pride in that moment, speechless. 

“I believe I am a bit overwhelmed.” His static was almost non-existent at that point, it had been one of the clearest times you had heard his voice in itself. Your heart still hammered in your chest, you could still feel his through the lining of his outfit; and the blood that rushed through your ears didn’t do much to help the flustered mess you had become. 

You averted your gaze elsewhere— _ anywhere _ else. You were suddenly sheepish, self-conscious as your mind ran havoc with all the cruel and loud thoughts that had been previously silenced. “...Me too.” You whispered. You were also exceedingly confused with everything that had come to light, everything that you had just experience, because you had made a really dumb move and you couldn’t go back from it now. You couldn’t lean back and say _ sike _ or try to convince yourself you hadn’t wanted it.

Because you had.

But you also wanted to retreat to the walls he had so persistently been knocking down— you wanted your defenses to _ defend _you. You felt a weight upon your forehead, the sensation of his hair flopping forward to become interwoven with yours, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face as he, and you as well, tried to pacify the situation. 

“I was mad long before I met you,” His voice was lower, softer than you had ever heard, gentle, soothing in your temporary respite. You focused your attention on how he still grasped your elbows, lightly, with his hands. Even through his gloves, you could feel how calloused they were. 

“I shall truly go off the deep end now.” 

You had never felt more alive than in that moment, so painfully aware of all the actions you had just committed. 

Would it have been a sin to wonder when you could do it again?

The thought unnerved, yet also invigorated you. When he inhaled, you could hear the shakiness of his breath. There was a sensation of guilt that pooled deep within your belly at that, and with your feelings so widespread, your thoughts equally scattered, you focused on what to say.

“Did I…” Your voice was cowardly and uncharacteristic of your normal behavior. You despised it the moment they fell from your lips. “...Do something wrong?” Everything felt like it was underwater. 

“Never, my dear.” You could feel his eyelashes flutter as he closed them, his words now incredibly soft. “You haven’t done anything.” He began, “It has been many years, _ decades _ even, since I have had others touch me. It’s very difficult for me to readjust so quickly.” A murmur against your flesh, and your skin lit up at the sensation. 

“But let me assure you. I adore having you so close to me, sweetheart, I just need to adapt to the feeling.” His head was heavy against yours, but you managed. You sucked in your bottom lip and bit it. He was making you feel things that you didn’t _ want _to feel. It was warm, uncomfortable, and stupid. 

“I don’t know… how…” You choked out, and you were surprised by how lost and confused you sounded.

You didn’t entirely know what you were saying at this point, and you found yourself falling into an abyss of immense and profound panic. You had kissed him on your own _ regard. _But you had enjoyed it, hadn’t you? You stiffened against him, barely present enough in the moment to hear his following words. To understand what he was implying. 

“We can do this together.” You felt him squeeze your arms with enough force to bring your attention back to him, to emphasize his words, but never hard enough to bruise. “I will be here for you...” his breath was heavy against your face, but soft, in a quiet tone that signified that this moment was just as monumental and meaningful as it felt. “For as long as you desire.” A soft phrase, nearly indistinguishable against the sound of your own heart beat. 

The thoughts accelerated within your mind, your head a carousel of memories and fears. Everything that he had ever done to you, everything you had recalled earlier, every little thing he had made you feel. He made you feel so little and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and now here you were. Afraid. Panicked. Paralyzed. 

Just when you had begun to figure everything out and had become entirely too willing to continue on in a life full of hatred for the man that sat in front of you, he had started a fire in you. He had made you feel _ good. _You hated that you were feeling the feelings that you were feeling. 

“I’m sorry, I—“ you stuttered, your gaze far away and glazed over as your breath became uneven. The confusion and sudden stress of the situation made your throat close with emotion, the warmth of your cheeks beginning to rise, the swelling of tears in your eyes; blurring your vision. 

You wanted to stay with him, you wanted to go very far away, you wanted him to let you know that it was going to be okay, you wanted him to never talk to you again. 

A blatant lie, that last part.

“You made me feel so small, you made me feel like I didn’t have a choice.” You whispered anxiously, you felt so far but so undoubtedly _ conscious _of everything. The cattails swaying. The water. The crickets. His steady breath. Steady breath. 

_ Steady your breath. _

You inhaled a great bout of air, before shakily releasing it. His grip on you tightened in a comforting manner, or so you suspected. It was the one thing that anchored you to the present. _ His presence. _ “I don’t— You make me feel things I don’t want to feel, Al, I _ don’t—“ _Your thoughts were jumbled; and you weren’t sure how to piece them together.

You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know where to _ begin. _

“May I hold you?” He sounded so close yet so far away. 

May he hold you. May he hold you. No. But yes. Yes but no. _ Maybe? _ You felt yourself nod weakly before you came to the realization you were actually saying yes. Again. When his arms encased you, you felt yourself go limp in his grip. 

He pulled you into his chest, and the sudden pressure of his head resting atop yours brought you out of your rumination. For the moment. His jaw moved upon you, and you noticed perhaps a moment too late that he was speaking, only when you focused on the vibrations of his throat. 

“I’m going to pick you up. If you want me to put you down, I will.” You felt his hands squeeze around your waist, giving you a moment to express your desires if you didn’t wish to be picked up. 

When you didn’t move or utter a word—unable to—you were lifted up as if you didn’t weigh more than a feather, and placed over his legs. You were suddenly nestled against him, your breath quickened for the briefest of moments before an inhale was taken. His scent, like a trigger to your brain in some way that you didn’t understand, made you relax just enough for you to let out a shuddering breath, only to lean your cheek upon his chest. 

You were in a position that you had never thought you would be in. Here you were, cradled against a man that you both despised and…_ couldn’t get off your mind. _Your tears stained his suit. You were so confused. So stressed. So overwhelmed. So exhausted. So everything.

“I have been around for a long time.” He paused. You felt the coolness of his gloved hand wiping away your tears as they trailed down your cheeks. “...And there are no beings on any plane that have made me feel as you do.” His voice was softer, a lot lower than you were used to. The rumble of it eased you more than you were willing to admit.

“It has not been my intention to make you feel any less than what you are, and what you are to me is someone who deserves only the best.” The sensation of silence was never one that lasted long. You hiccuped as you tried to reign in your emotions to the best of your ability. 

“It makes me feel emotions I haven’t felt in a long time, to hear that I… stirred such feelings within you.” You felt him rest his cheek against your head as he removed his hands from your face, despite how soothing the action had been for you. “I shall do my best to ensure it does not happen again.” 

“But… but _ how? _” Your eyelids felt really heavy all of the sudden. Everything a hazy motion around you as you slumped against him, willing yourself to unleash the tension in your body. You were so torn; for you never wanted him to leave or separate you, and the exact opposite. 

You were too mentally and physically exhausted to fight it any longer. 

“I can only promise that I will do my best.” He held you close, “And I am learning that I had some perhaps... _ unsavory _ ways of trying to win you over, in a manner of speaking.” 

You sighed weakly, _ yeah he fucking did. _It was the first time you had actually been able to touch him in such a manner, and the texture of his suit—silk—eased you into a state of surrealism. It was soft, smooth. But you didn’t want to have this spiral out of control, just like how your emotions already were.

“Don’t um, don’t look into this… This—“ you yawned, “...This isn’t, um.” Your brain fought to catch up with what you wanted to say, but at the same time, you felt like you knew nothing at all. Constantly stumbling and fumbling in your emotions and thoughts in a manner that was hardly healthy.

“...Anything.” _ Sure. _

“Of course, darling. Just rest.” He murmured against you.

Your tension ebbed from you with a heavy breath and as your thoughts began to turn nonsensical, you found yourself drifting off into a state of tranquil unconsciousness. And upon your eyelids drooping, you let yourself cascade from the obliviousness of the outside world and into the chaos of your beautiful, chaotic dreams as his steady breath lulled you deeper and deeper still. 

Of course, what harmony that could be achieved in the bowels of Hell were short lived, and your dreams were often just as fleeting. When you awoke, bleary eyed and greeted by that same ceiling you had grown so accustomed to, your knee-jerk reaction was to scrunch your face in a mixture of grogginess, wariness, and finally confusion. 

You were in your bed. You didn’t remember getting in your bed. 

And just like that, the storm of thoughts rampaged across your mind. Your expression fell faster than a stone in water, and as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, the mayhem that followed was an emotion you had only felt a hundred times before. Confliction. Like a ball of tangled yarn, no known stopping or starting point, you desperately tried to attempt to untwine the mess that was your mind. 

What parts had been real. What parts hadn’t been.

Before panic could be invoked within you, your eyes had landed on the alarm clock situated on your bedside table. You stared at it for a long moment before it clicked. Time. It was late. Late. Late for… a job. Oh, the new job. _ Shit _. You nearly fell off the bed with how fast you pulled the covers and slid off of the mattress. With just as much vigor, you half-way sprinted towards the closet and in doing so, nearly slammed into the glass of the mirror as you lost your balance. It warbled from the force. 

But it didn’t break. It was fine. Everything was fine. You needed to calm down.

You slid on your attire, and in record timing, you were out the door. You were sure Charlie wouldn’t mind you being a bit late, she had a rather forgiving nature to begin with. Her entire dream was based on the phrase ‘forgive and forget’, so you could hope… at the very least. It didn’t take long for your thoughts to stem from the burning curiosity that dwelled in your mind; of how you could have bet real cash money on the fact that Alastor hadn’t been deplorable in his actions.

He was so _ dumb. _But he was also a charming, in a sense. You thought he was charming, yes, but that was an observation that could be made by anyone. A fucked up gentleman, but a gentleman nonetheless. This was so entirely new and insane to you that you weren’t sure how or where to start. He had made notes on how to treat you better, on what you liked and disliked, your reactions to things.

A drawing board full of courtship ideas.

And then the kiss happened. Oh, the _ kiss. _

With him, your thoughts had quieted to the point of near non-existence, a feat that had been originally thought to be beyond the bounds of possibility. There should have been a limit to how much brain access you were allotted to, because you were so tired of being in your own head. Tired of thinking off Alastor, of _ everything. _

Just as you ran your hand through your hair and released a stressed sigh, you found that you had arrived at your destination. Thank God. Was that a slur down here? Anyways, you needed distraction.

“Charlie?” You made a fist and knocked a few times, hoping that they were already up and… not doing things. You wondered if you should have brought anything. You liked being creative, so you supposed you could have wandered around and gotten a few things around the hotel. There had to be cool items. Y’know. _ Arts and crafts. _

“Coming!” It was muffled, but before you could retract your arm, the door was swung open. Charlie had a winter jacket on, and Vaggie was just next to her. Neither commented on your lateness, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders.

_ “I hope you’re ready to go shopping!” _She beamed, stating such words as if you had already been aware.

You blinked. “Shopping?”

“Yeah, we’ve got to get construction paper, glue, and _ glitter! _Y’know, for the flyers and brochures and stuff and oh my goodness!” She took in a great bout of air. You could see the stars in her eyes, and you offered a stunned expression, your still groggy mind trying desperately to keep up with the word vomit. 

Vaggie settled a hand on her shoulder and offered her a soft half-smile.

“I know, I know, I need to calm down. But! _ But! _ I was also thinking we could stop by a cute little cafe for breakfast, just us gals!” The calmness was disregarded almost immediately.

Before you could blink, Charlie gasped and turned around to grab a coat. “Here!”

You weren’t really expecting to go out and about, but you couldn’t exactly say _ no _ . She was your boss now. You also _ did _ need to get supplies. “Thanks…” You said before taking the coat and slipping it on. It was warm, if not a bit big. That was okay, though. You didn’t really have the room to complain. 

“Are we… going _ now _… or?” You tilted your head, tucking your hands in the pockets.

“Now!_ ” _She grabbed your hand along with Vaggie’s as she tugged you both through the hall. “We’ve got to get started! It’s going to be so much fun! I know a great little place that gets stock from this place called Hobby Lobby! Have you ever heard of it?” She looked at you out of her peripherals. 

“No…?” You responded in a questioning tone, urging her to explain. It had a nice ring to it, at least. A small smile toyed upon your lips. Her excitement for her dream to be realized was _ contagious, _okay?

“That’s alright! You’ll see it soon enough.” There was a bounce in her step. 

You glanced towards Vaggie with wide eyes, and she shrugged. It was one of the first instances that you had seen the moth demon lower her guard, and that realization alone caused you to do the same, instinctively, or perhaps even subconsciously. You didn’t feel the urge to be nervous, and you bet the reasoning had to do with Charlie being there. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to reach the lobby, and in being nearly dragged out of the hotel, the sudden train of females caught the attention of that notable effeminate spider. His expression was knitted into a confused one, holding Fat Nuggets to his chest, before it ultimately soured.

He turned away just as quickly, before anyone could notice.

You didn’t, as you were out of the lobby faster than you could blink. A gust of cold air caused you to become relieved that Charlie had lent you a coat in the first place. Down the long driveway and towards the side of the hotel, Charlie led the two of you towards a garage that (up until this point), you hadn’t even realized existed. It looked clean, so Niffty must have been aware. But that wasn’t your job anymore, you didn’t have to scrutinize yourself for not cleaning.

It wasn’t your place.

There were multiple expensive looking vehicles lined up inside said garage. The particular car that you had all begun to pile into was a sleek silver, and quite expensive looking. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, for Charlie did come from a royal family. It should’ve been given that, if they had a hotel in their name, that they _ probably _had cars up the wazoo, too. 

You were _ also _surprised to see Charlie hop into the driver’s seat. Vaggie got into the passenger one, and you situated yourself behind them. Said Princess of Hell was still chatting up an excited storm by the time you all got situated. 

“I didn’t know you could drive.” You interrupted.

“My mom taught me in… I think it was 1870?” She brought a finger to her chin as she mulled over her thoughts. “OH, sorry. 1873!” She beamed at you through the mirror. 

“...1873.” You repeated softly. That would make her… You didn’t want to think about it. It was difficult to come to terms with the fact that Charlie was a day older than twenty-five. It was far easier to believe that she was closer to your age, than you know, _ innumerable decades apart. _

“Yep!” She replied chipperly.

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. 

Charlie checked both mirrors before backing out of the garage. “So! We’re going to stop by the café first, because breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And then we’ll go shopping for arts and crafts! And we’ll also get a printer and all of the stuff you need! And then you can just go nuts on advertising! Do you think you’ll need a computer? Do you know how to use a computer?” 

Vaggie brought her index and thumb finger to rub at the bridge of her nose. 

“Yeah. I was raised with computers.” You began, lightly. “I don’t… really remember a lot about them, but I think I’ll be able to figure it out, y’know?” 

Charlie gave a single nod of her head, motioning with her right hand, the other on her steering wheel as she chatted away. She was _ really _excited. “Well, in any case! If you need any help, Vaggie can offer some assistance, right Vags?” 

“...Right.” She had a splitting headache all of the sudden. “Hun, please lower your voice.” A groan slipped out. 

You felt that on a personal level. 

Charlie gave a sheepish smile and apologized, but nevertheless continued. Her voice was softer now that Vaggie had commented on it. “Is there anywhere we need to stop while we’re out?” The question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, but you took the chance that was given.

“Could I get more clothes?” You questioned inquisitively. You also wanted more of a reason to be _ away _from the hotel. More distraction. 

“Of course! You can pick up some cozy stuff! Or some formal stuff or whatever you want!” She looked towards Vaggie then. “Should we go grocery shopping too just in case?” Now that Alastor was cooking more and people were actually starting to cook in the kitchen, it might be best if she ordered another fridge. 

“We can do that later.” Vaggie responded. “We’ll see what we have when we get back. If we’re going to go grocery shopping we need a list, anyway.” 

Needless to say, the majority of the car ride was filled with loose chatter, and you found yourself laughing a few times at Charlie’s excitement. This project meant a lot to her, and you were glad you would be able to help now. At least this way, you could help her succeed in her dream.

You were in the middle of the busy square when Charlie parked in front of the little cafe that she had been talking about. She popped out of the vehicle and started grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet. It wasn’t every day she was able to get out and about with people she considered friends. It had been a long time since she had had a girls day. 

Even if you were going to be doing stuff for work, she was still beyond ecstatic.

She was absolutely beaming, and her happiness was contagious. It brought you out of the wallowing depths of your mind, and you were thankful for that. Entering the cafe, you were greeted with the scent of warm bread, dough, coffee, and cocoa beans. The walls were a deep red, the floor a hardwood brown. There were treats on display, and the scent immediately made your stomach growl.

Charlie held up three fingers when a grumpy looking waitress demon inquired in a monotone voice how many there were in the group. Upon leading you back towards a wooden table with four chairs, you sat across from Vaggie as she sat next to Charlie. 

“What can I get you ladies?” The demon eyed you all with an exceedingly worn out, tired frown. Her voice was monotone, and you could see the bags under her eyes. 

“I’ll have a frappuccino and one of your sugar cookies!” Charlie pointed towards a visible sugar cookie in the display window, 

Vaggie took a bit longer. That gave you time to look over the menu. “Can I get an iced coffee with an apple turnover?” 

The waitress didn’t give any indication that it was your turn, and only when Charlie cleared her throat did you look up and offer a small ‘oh’ “I’ll have a hot chocolate,” you stared lightly, scanning the menu once more. “And a bagel with cream cheese.” 

Without a word, the waitress scribbled everything down and turned and left. You didn’t blame her for her unsatisfying behavior. Retail work down in Hell must have been a lot worse than it was on Earth. She didn’t even take the menus.

“Okay! So how’s everybody doing?” Charlie settled her face in her hands and eyed you with wide, happy eyes. She knew how Vaggie was, but she was interested in how _ you _ were doing after your interesting few days. She crossed her ankles underneath the table. 

“Hungry.” You commented, jokingly. Your eyes squinted in humor. 

“So…. Alastor took it well then?” She asked cautiously. Vaggie’s head snapped in her direction as her singular eye went wide in surprise. 

“_Charlie!_” She hissed.

“What!? I just want to make sure she’s okay!” Said demon whisper-yelled back. 

You stiffened as a chill raced up your spine. You averted your gaze towards the table, your hands resting upon them. You weren’t sure how to… explain. “He… doesn’t really know.” You murmured.

Out of your peripherals, you saw Vaggie and Charlie as they turned back to face you.

“...I can understand why you wouldn’t tell him hun, but he’s going to figure it out eventually.” Vaggie offered, reaching a hand across the table before putting it back in her lap. She didn’t want to overwhelm you more than you already were. 

You put your elbows on the table and buried your face in your hands. “I did something _ really _ bad.” Very, very bad. 

There was a long bout of silence. 

“I’m sure it’s not _ that _ bad, what happened?” Charlie had no qualms about scooting her chair over to wrap her arm around your shoulders. You felt even worse. You rubbed your eyes. Vaggie had begun to drink from a glass of water.

“I made out with him.” You murmured just loud enough to be audible. You felt Charlie stiffen around you. 

Vaggie, however, spit her drink out all over the table. “_DIOS MIO! _ Did he make you!?” She gasped as she reached around her desperately for napkins. When she got back, she was going to stab him, this was absolutely ridiculous. 

Charlie’s arm tightened around you and she brought her other arm around you to hold you tight. You shook your head as you brought your arms down and let your head rest onto the table with a _ thump. _“I’m such an idiot.” You groaned.

“No, this isn’t your fault!” Charlie insisted with a surprising amount of venom. She sounded pissed. “It wasn’t like you asked for it!” Had you been able to see her properly, you would have seen that the whites of her eyes had shifted into a red hue.

“...Yes I did.” You murmured sadly.

“...”

“...”

At the same time they responded: _ “You did what now?” _

You brought your head up and rested it on your hand, letting out a long, drawn out sigh. “He has all of these plans in his room going on and on about courting me. All of these notes on my behavior, and almost all of them are out of context.” You spilled, “He’s… _ trying _.” You said softly. 

Once you began, you couldn’t stop.

“So I told him I’d let him ask me questions about what to do and what not to do.” You let them process it for a moment, before continuing. “Oh! Did you know he has a _ swamp _in his room? A literal swamp!” You laughed out in disbelief.

Charlie narrowed her eyes. She didn’t remember approving a swamp. 

“He has a swamp in his room?” Vaggie asked as if that were the strangest thing you had mentioned. 

“Cattails, water, fog, everything!” You nodded rapidly. You were glad you weren’t the only one that thought it was weird. 

“What a weirdo.” She crossed her arms and leaned back, waiting for you to continue. 

“He pulled a desk out of thin air. I don’t know how he does it. It’s like… voodoo magic bullshit.” You brought a hand up to wiggle your fingers. “Or _ something _. After answering the questions, he… asked if he could kiss me.”

“Wait, what? How…. How did it even _ escalate _ to him asking to kiss you?” Charlie was confused, something was missing from your story. Yes, she believed you, but she also knew you weren’t sharing all the details. Not the important ones at least. 

You hesitated. “After answering the questions,” You began again. “He kind of… apologized in his own way? I guess? Kind of for the stuff he did.” You paused, and with a large intake: “But he also said he wouldn’t apologize, because he wouldn’t have been there with me if he hadn’t done all of that stuff. And then he was being nice, and weird. Because he’s so WEIRD, and then we were close, and then he held my hand, and asked if he could kiss me. And I was stupid, and- and _ weak _ and said yes.” You said it all without taking a single breath.

Vaggie was staring at you like you had grown three heads and Charlie had loosened her hold on you and was now just watching you idly, a curious look on her features. 

“... Did you like it?” Charlie asked tentatively, no sense of judgement in her voice. 

“...Yeah. I mean I—“You looked down and began to fiddle with your fingers. “...May have pulled him back in.” You whispered.

“YOU _ WHAT!? _” Vaggie yelled, slamming her hands down on the table. The entire café silenced and looked at the three of you, before continuing on with their daily horrors. 

Charlie eyed her with a disapproving look, and Vaggie snapped her mouth shut, bringing a hand up and massaging the bridge of her nose.

The blonde whispered your name just as softly. “Do you think that maybe… you’re starting to _ not _ hate him?” She wouldn’t bring up the possibility of you having romantic feelings for him. She could tell you were struggling with your own feelings, but it seemed you weren’t as hateful towards him any more and that he was being not as much of a creepy bastard as he usually was.

It had taken her own father a long time to learn how to be good to her mother, perhaps Alastor was similar in that way. 

“I _ want _ to hate him. He’s… done _ so _ much.” You leaned back against the chair then, crossing your arms. 

“Alright! Here’s your stuff, holler if you need more... stuff.” The waitress settled everything in the middle of the table, having forgotten who actually wanted what and not bothering to ask. She left before anyone could say anything.

You felt your appetite falter, but you forced yourself to bring the bagel to your mouth anyways. You chewed with a bit more aggression than what was necessary. It was good. Warm. “I just… I don’t—“

“But do you not hate him… as much as you did?” Charlie asked, now tucking in to her cookie and drink. 

You looked off to the side uncomfortably. “...No.”

Vaggie for once wished she had spiked her coffee. This was nuts. “You realize-”

Charlie looked at her and motioned for her to stop talking. You already felt bad enough as it was, she could tell.

“No, what were you going to say?” You said softly, bringing the bagel to your lips again. You needed a good punch of reality right now. Particularly to your gut. 

“You realize he could be tricking you, or _ grooming _ you, right? What if you’re getting stockholm syndrome or something? This isn’t good. Alastor _ isn’t _good. You need to be careful.” Vaggie explained in a feverish manner, her singular eye wide. She didn’t touch her food, for now.

“You know,” You laughed dryly, “I don’t think he has the capability of tricking me at this point.”

“Why do you say that?” Vaggie asked, thoroughly lost in your strange… love life. 

“Because he knows that I’ve seen him frown. Multiple times.” A blunt response.

They were both silent for a long moment. You took advantage of that and took a few bites of your bagel.

“You’ve seen the…” Charlie lowered her voice. “You’ve see the _ Radio Demon _ frown?” She asked, eyes wide and trying to suppress her grin. He must have actually had deep feelings for you if he let you see such a vulnerability. 

Your face twisted up. “It’s nothing like… cool or anything. It’s creepy. _ He’s creepy. _ ” Vaggie raised her eyebrows and nodded, poking at her food finally. “Every single time he does it, every time he stops smiling or… something, it catches me off guard. I don’t like it. Because, I just... _ ” _You trailed off, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What happened when he frowned?” Vaggie was being fueled by curiosity at this point. 

“Well, the first time he choked me.” You frowned. 

Vaggie took a deep inhale. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“But that was before we were locked in the closet together, and I told him he was infatuated with me.” You continued.

“I—” Vaggie started, completely lost. “So, what happened?” 

You spent the majority of breakfast recounting your tale in detail about Alastor’s ridiculous courtship methods and how he started to change when you told him that he had feelings for you. It was only then did the other information you had shared start to make sense to your trusted acquaintances.

“You know, I don’t think he actually… knew.” You finished. “His head is so damn thick that he doesn’t understand a _ lot. _ And that makes me even more confused, because if he doesn’t understand it, then how am _ I _supposed to?” You shook your head solemnly.

“Do you want to understand it? I mean... is this something you are open to?” Charlie was kicking her feet under the table, her head in her hand as she looked at you with a gentle smile. This sounded an awful lot like her parents story, so she wasn’t _ too _ put off by it. Demon courting methods were often strange compared to what went on upon the surface.

“I don’t know. I’m… afraid. I don’t understand. I just— I don’t want this, but then again, why else would I have held his hand or kissed him back? Like, it disgusts me but it also makes me feel warm and I just. I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do.” You threaded your fingers through your hair.

“Maybe try not to think so much about it and just roll with it. If he starts being a super freak again, let us know, but it seems like he’s trying to soften up his methods…?” Charlie looked to Vaggie for more assurance.

Vaggie sighed but started up her own little rant. “_ Look _. I know he’s changing or... whatever. And I get feeling lost, but just be wary. He’s dangerous.” She made her point by slamming a fork down into the table, only to be yelled at by Charlie.

Wedging it out, she returned her attention back to you. “If you need help with him, you know where we sleep. And uh… If you need me too. I’ll stab him for you.” She half-joked

You smiled weakly. “Thanks.” You might have to take her up on that offer. 

“Okay!” Charlie exclaimed, paying the bill. “Who’s ready to do some shopping!?”

The conversation and advice continued in the safety of the car, but upon entering the store, the topic of discussing the strange methods of the Radio Demon grew uncomfortable.

However, you _ were _ able to see the strange Hobby Lobby Charlie had discussed with you prior, and for that, you were thankful for the distraction. You wondered briefly why the surface would supply to Hell—demons in particular—but you were sure that was something far beyond your pay grade. 

Charlie was ecstatic about being in such a place loaded with all sorts of crafting goodies, to say the least.

When she saw the glitter aisle, you watched as Vaggie had to physically restrain her from scooping everything into the cart. Though, it was rather endearing how Vaggie sighed and ended up getting another cart because she couldn’t help but give in _ just _a bit.

You decided to dip out to search for some construction paper, as Vaggie was having a hard enough time putting some of the glitters back onto the shelf… only for Charlie to turn around and put it all back. 

You let out a soft giggle as you walked away from them. 

When you had successfully pilfered the supplies you were after, you returned to them. They pushed around two carts: one mostly loaded with glitter (of course) and other select arts and crafts, while the other cart was filled with a desk, printer, and a computer. 

“Hey, what’s that for?” You pointed at it. In doing so, you slipped the paper you had gotten into the craft cart only for Charlie to start bouncing on her heels. She beamed down at you. 

“It’s for you! You can work on flyers and make a social page or… something. I’m not so sure how to do all of it, but isn’t it exciting!?” Charlie grinned. You looked to Vaggie who only nodded with an amused smile.

“I can... help you set some stuff up later if you want.” She offered.

“That would be nice.” A smile toyed upon your lips. You both shared a mutual smile of understanding. “Thanks, Vaggie.”

As you were all checking out, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the total. You probably could have died _ again. _ No less, you tried to ignore the total and remind yourself that this was all for the hotel, that it was going to go to _ good _ use. You made a vow that you would never waste Charlie’s money. 

She was so philanthropic that it was astounding to a point. 

You all finished checking out and loaded up the car. Upon doing so, you noticed a clothing store at the end of the street. After making sure that it was alright and that they would wait for you, you decided to go alone. In and out. 

You had a feeling if Charlie went in with you, everything you even _ glanced _ at would be purchased. It didn’t take a team to pick out your specific clothing style. 

After the long day you had, you didn’t want to be _ too _ long. 

Thankfully, you were able to stick to your plan and, with a bag full of new clothing, you exited the shop. You were surprised to see the car waiting on the curb for you already, but you didn’t comment on it. Instead, you rounded the side and slipped into the back seat. 

Charlie asked you about your purchases, and you showed her before she started driving.

And then… it was back home to the hotel. 


	39. Little Do You Know

That malevolent, bright haloed cloud never did much to ease your worries.

It acted as the sun in this world... at least, that’s what you had  _ begun _ to compare it to. It was the lone source of natural light in a place of dark secrets and even darker creatures. It was a constant reminder that, eventually, a militia of exterminators would come to slay those who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Even with the embers and fires of Hell, who better to purge such loathsome sinners?

The shadow that pooled at your feet was the only memento that insinuated you still had an entire day to endure. An entire day to figure out what you were going to do if you ran into Alastor because, what would you do then? What even  _ happened?  _ Despite your memory being in tip-top shape from that specific event, it was a whole rodeo in itself that you weren’t ready to come to terms with.

Not yet, at least.

Not while you were one step from freezing your ass off and two steps from dropping the bags that you had refused to make a second trip for. Preserving body heat had always been a task for the denizens of Hell during this time of the year; preparation was needed for such dramatically frigid weather. As you pulled the borrowed coat closer to you, you were already well on your way to wanting to curl up next to the fireplace and never move again. 

Thankfully, during your successful outing, you had managed to pick up attire that was more suitable for the bitterness: Hoodies, long sleeve shirts, your own winter jacket, sweatpants, fluffy socks, and shoes that could withstand such. 

Your breath had become visible the moment you had stepped foot out of the vehicle and, after telling Charlie and Vaggie to leave the more… snazzy objects in the back of the car until you could figure out a place in your room to put it, you were more than eager to get back into the warmth of the hotel. Your creativity was already bursting at the seams, and Charlie’s enthusiasm only spurred it on. 

With the overload of glitter and other ornaments, you were entirely certain that finding a way to make the flyers and advertisements stand out wouldn’t be a problem in the slightest. 

You awaited their company before heading up the driveway, swinging the bags around your wrists all the while, even as the plastic constricted you painfully. 

Thankfully, they didn’t park in the garage as they had originally prepared themselves to bring in the heavier appliances, but in this turn of events, you were welcome to the idea that you didn’t have to walk as far. The planks of the patio creaked under the weight as the three of you entered the hotel quietly. 

It was as if there were some shared, silent expectation that you’d be coming back to see the hotel destroyed.

But when Charlie opened the door and let the two of you in, all you had come to see was the same old lobby you had come to associate as the ‘living room’ of your home. Not a single object was out of place. The sound of a bottle slamming down on a counter caught your attention and you, along with Charlie and Vaggie, turned to glance over. 

“So, do you know what I told him, Husker?” Alastor leaned over the counter of the bar, his ankles crossed, a heel raised to show the deer-esque red prints. He had his grinning, enthused face next to the cat’s, eyebrows raised. If the bar hadn’t been blocking his path, you guessed he would have pestered Husk even further. 

Though, he already seemed to be doing outstanding in that field. 

“I don’t give a shit. I told you to get the  _ fuck _ away from me.” He sneered, a clawed hand flexing around a cheap bottle of booze. A mocking laugh track resounded through the vicinity just as string of ‘ha’s’ escaped Alastor, dramatically. 

“That’s not what I said at all, you silly feline! I said-” He inhaled a great bout of breath and, just as he was about to spill the deets about a topic that most likely would get on Husk’s nerves further, Vaggie cleared her throat loudly. 

The two of them looked towards the newcomers with dramatically different expressions. Husk looked relieved, and Alastor looked absolutely  _ ecstatic-  _ if not a bit annoyed that he had been interrupted. It seemed to be a recurring theme around these parts, much to his disappointment.

You blinked as he spread his arms quickly, successfully whacking the drunkard in the face and causing the alcohol he had been sipping on to spill onto his fur. 

Before Husk could curse him out, Alastor was already half-way across the room. 

“Darling! There you are!” He exclaimed, coat tail swaying behind him as he strutted towards you in a very peacocking fashion. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. His eyes were  _ almost _ as wide as that stupid, charming, smile. 

You were comforted by the fact that (you took a quick peek just to make sure) Charlie and Vaggie were next to you still. When you turned around, Alastor was nowhere to be seen. 

With a furrow of your brows, and a narrowing of your eyes, you glanced around. You nearly screamed when you heard him quite literally shout in your ear, popping up out of thin air. 

“I see you’ve gone shopping!” He chimed, happily.

You spun around so fast that any quicker, and you were sure you would have given yourself whiplash.

His arms were neatly folded behind his back as he bent at the waist in an attempt to try to peer into those tantalizingly…  _ basic _ bags. He had always been a meddler, sticking his nose into places it didn’t belong. You protectively hoarded the bags away from him, and in doing so, balanced all three on your left arm. 

Like  _ that _ would stop him. 

With a singular step, he placed a claw on the edge of one of the plastic bags, only to try to pull it down  _ just enough  _ to peer into the contents that it held. “What’re in the bags, little dear?” He inquired when you swatted his hand away. His voice hummed in your ear, and you stiffened in response. 

Your heart rate quickly surpassed the normal rhythmic pace, and your hands clenched tighter around the bags. 

“...It’s nothing for you.” You attempted to bypass him. What loomed behind you was the source of your anxiety, and despite how much you desired to root yourself in the present, the moment your mind had an opportunity to jump down the rabbit hole of confliction, it did. 

Just when you thought your actions could help you better understand what exactly was occurring in your mind, you tumbled back down the hill of uncertainty and  _ fear.  _ Just when you thought you could be better than all of the things you had tried to forget, the ultimate betrayal of your friendship. After years of trust, he had killed you. He had killed you and if your supposed ‘best friend’ could do that, then… where did that place you with Alastor? 

You wanted to trust him, but it was a lot more difficult than just  _ saying so.  _ Sometimes you wondered if it would be best to just go full on rogue and say ‘fuck it’ like you had done with the kiss. At least then your thoughts wouldn’t torment you for the rest of eternity.

What if he was just leading you on? What if Vaggie had been right about him grooming you? What if  _ he  _ betrayed you? If that were the case, then you were the biggest damn fool Hell had ever harbored. The thing that stumped you the most was the fact that you weren’t sure if you would even be able to bring yourself to  _ care  _ at that point.

And you knew that, as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t  _ give  _ a damn if he betrayed you because… because somewhere deep inside you, you knew what he had stemmed. He had entangled you, invaded your thoughts that now weren’t dipped in the ink of pure, utter hatred. 

No, now your thoughts of him were more anxious and  _ hopeful.  _

“I assumed as much!” He proudly stated as if only a genius of his caliber could figure out such a thing. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor alerted you that he was following you. 

Of course he was. 

“Though I must inquire about the mass amount of glitter. What are you going to use it all for?” The question wasn’t directed at you in particular, but when he tried to peer into the bags again, your savior spoke up once more. 

Charlie noticed your discomfort. 

“Alastor, leave her alone.” She admonished softly, as if she were speaking to a child rather than an extremely dangerous entity that had practically made the hotel his oyster. You nearly heard the angels themselves singing when that phrase was uttered, and you shot Charlie an appreciative glance. But you had also learned the hard way that something so mundane as that wouldn’t get him off your ass. 

You just wanted to get started on the project as soon as possible. 

You hadn’t noticed how tight your grip had become on the bags until he had pulled himself away from you and, almost instantly, you could feel yourself able to breathe better. It wasn’t that he was so detestful or uncomfortable to be around, but more so that he made you so…  _ nervous.  _

He rounded around you, and you watched in synonymous curiosity and relief when he began to pester  _ them  _ and not you. His eyes were lidded in mischievousness, his grin wide and almost threatening in a sense. He flaunted around like he never had a care in the world, and you found yourself envious of that. How easily he could put up a facade. 

A master manipulator. 

But you couldn’t help but hope that it wasn’t the same when it came to you. Vaggie’s words, though at the time hadn’t really made a change in your perspective, had now begun to fester and pool in your mind like an overflowing sink. You wanted to deny all the emotions you were beginning to feel flutter forth, of how his presence had begun to instill a sense of passionate warmth deep in your belly. 

But you couldn’t.

_ Ugh _ . 

“Aye, Dios Mio! Mind your  _ damn _ business.” Vaggie cried out in exasperation before she ushered Charlie forward. She brushed past Alastor with an untrusting glare. You hadn’t even realized you had tuned out and been staring at him with a…  _ form _ of warmth until Vaggie met your lost gaze with a concerned and cautious glance. 

Your eyes widened before you blinked a multitude of times, only to look down to your bags. You moved them from one wrist to the other before you gave your sore arm a good shake. There were deeply imbedded red lines in your skin, and you winced. Glitter, your new clothes, and an assortment of other arts and crafts were surprisingly heavy. A dramatic gasp caused you to look up.

Alastor had a hand where his heart would be, y’know,  _ if _ he had one. 

“There’s no need to be so  _ rude! _ I just want to know what my favorite employee is up to!” In a flourish, he had turned on his heel and stalked back over to you. His eyes held an intensity that showed you that any efforts to deter him would be fruitless. You watched him lower his arm and position it in a manner as if he were expecting you to hook your arm in his. 

He fluttered his eyelashes down at you. “I could hold them for you, if you would like?” He questioned with a rather endearing smile.

It never made sense to you how utterly expressive he could be. How his grin could be so...  _ threatening _ one moment, and then soft the next. You stared up at his outstretched arm for a second before you looked over to Vaggie and Charlie. 

Charlie was nodding her head and giving a thumbs up with her free hand, while Vaggie had folded her arms and watched the two of you with what you assumed could only be protective intent.

They weren’t any help. 

You sighed lightly as you let your shoulders slump. “I’ll um, meet the two of you upstairs, okay?” Afterall, Alastor was the thorn in  _ your  _ side that needed to be tweezed out. Though, you were beginning to question whether or not you actually…  _ wanted  _ it out _ .  _ They nodded silently, though there was more hesitance in Vaggie’s gaze compared to Charlie’s trusting one. 

Nevertheless, they went up the stairs and disappeared down the hallway.

Slowly, you turned back to face his drastically tall and lean physique. Being so close to him, it never became more apparent how utterly enormous he was in comparison to you. Often times, you found yourself thankful when he bent at the waist to better accommodate your… stunted growth. At least Vaggie and you were on par with the height you were missing out on.

You glanced at his outstretched arm before sighing and offering him the heavier bag of arts and crafts. “Here.” It was the one with the majority of the things in it to boot. You were certain that, to quote what Vaggie had said earlier, he would find out eventually. There was no point.

With the weight lifted off of your arm, you readjusted the other two and, just as he had begun to open the bag to see all the goodies that laid inside, you began to make your way towards the bannister. You weren’t surprised when he questioned all the resources again, this time from a bit behind you, indicating that he hadn’t moved from his spot.

“What’re these for, darling?” There was a questionable lilt in his voice. 

“For the new job.” You called back over your shoulder, jaw snapping shut upon releasing that rather...  _ clipped _ response. As if not having such a response would have permitted your anxieties and desires to be voiced. It would be best to just shut up while you still had the chance. 

And you had done just that. 

You felt the sudden looming presence long before he had spoken up. You were so painfully aware of all of the nervousness and confliction that resided within you and how the last thing you wanted to do was confront them face to face. But he didn’t seem to care about your inner turmoil, that, or he simply was unaware of the struggles you faced on the daily. 

“Ah yes, you’ve still yet to tell me what it is you’re going to be doing, and with  _ whom _ you are doing it with.” He was right behind you, the epitome of all the furious thoughts and emotions that he made you feel. So close. He was so close. You gripped the railing as you made your way up. 

“It’s nothing important,” you said. You know- like a liar. In fact, it was very important and you wanted to get started on it immediately. You heard him scoff behind you, the tell-tale sound of a heel hitting the step sparking a sudden realization that he was going to continue following you until he either found out what he wanted, or just to continue to prod you simply because he  _ could.  _

“You continue to tell me such nonsense,” He stated, “But I do believe you’re hiding something from me.” You could hear the grin in his voice, could feel his eyes on you as you picked up the pace and pulled yourself up by  _ two  _ steps. When you reached the top of the stairs and practically feel his breath tickling at the back of your neck, you froze. His presence was always so  _ domineering. _

Even without meaning to, he stole the spotlight with it alone. 

“I can  _ smell  _ how nervous you are, sharkling.” He sounded like a predator, and if you had looked behind you, you would have seen his nose crinkle. You felt his gaze on you, burning into your flesh with a curious intensity. You could feel your heart rate continue to increase just by his proximity alone. 

Oh yes, you were very nervous, and his observation didn’t help that in the slightest. You weren’t sure if his body emitted a natural heat, or if you were just warm from the nearness.

With a deep inhale, you swallowed your nerves and began to walk again, drifting into the hallway that you had seen Vaggie and Charlie disappear down. You would have thought that he had given up on his burning curiosity to know every little thing that happened in regards to you if you weren’t alerted by the clicking of his shoes. 

That, and, y’know, if he hadn’t been  _ Alastor.  _

“That’s not what I’m nervous about,” you quietly said. The response was late as you had tried to figure out how to say what you wanted to say without… saying them? But that wouldn’t help you in your situation, would it? “It’s for a project, okay? It’s for a project.” You repeated.

“So all this glitter and paper is for  _ one _ project?” He inquired. “Yes, I had gathered that much already. However, I’d like to know  _ what _ the project is, and how large it seems to be.” He sounded huffy, almost, like a little bratty toddler. Which was fitting considering how many traits they shared. 

Of course, such huffiness didn’t proceed for very long.

“Though, I am happy to hear that you are moving upwards in your job search! You deserve to be far more than part of the custodial staff.” He kept pace with you, and you watched with a raised brow as he joined your side. 

You couldn’t get rid of him  _ that  _ easily. “It’s a hotel,” you said at last. “The project is to get more people to stay  _ in _ the hotel.” You peeked into the bags absentmindedly.

“Interesting…” he brought a forefinger to his chin and rubbed it curiously in thought. “Is your plan to entrance them with all the glitter? Ensnare them, and then trap them here?” He gasped dramatically, and you looked up at him.

_ What. _

“Darling, I am simply  _ overjoyed! _ Shall we do this together? What fun shall be had!” As if you had already said ‘yes’, he continued on; already ruminating through ideas avidly. “I can teach you how to make summoning circles with all of this! Oh, how they’d be quite grand!” 

He waved the bag around as he gestured about wildly with such grandeur. 

Your face scrunched up in wicked confusion. Summoning circles made out of glue, glitter, and construction paper. Yeah, sounded about right. “No, it’s... to make flyers.” Or did he want you to explain that, too? It was only after a few moments of silence that the static he carried with him made its presence known. And with that came the chill that ran up your spine at the realization of how  _ close  _ he was to you. 

Just as your heart rate had begun to calm, it sped up once more. “You’re  _ so close.” _ You huffed as you picked up your pace. The quicker you get there, the better. Distraction, distraction, you wanted— no,  _ needed _ the distraction.

“Yes darling, I am often close to you!” He proudly stated.

“Shall I back up? Or are you nervous about _something_ _else?_” He leaned closer while he scurried after you, narrowing his eyes as he brought his face close to yours, almost nose to head. You had the split second thought of stopping so he would slam into you when you felt his looming, idiotic, charming presence. He was so weird, sometimes.

“You still smell nervous… what's ailing you?” He paused, allowing you to further the distance between you both. 

What was ailing you. Oh, you weren’t entirely sure! 

Could it have been the fact that he didn’t seem the least bit concerned over what had happened the previous night. What it could mean. The meaning behind it all. The touches you had planted upon his lips. Your panic. You stopped mid-step, a wary breath escaping your nose before you turned around. You closed your eyes for another, before reopening them when you began to speak. 

“What happened last night?” You choked out. 

“Ah, yes!” He declared. “It was quite overwhelming, wasn’t it?” He leaned back. Yes, everything was overwhelming for you, but a lot more muted than it had been the prior night. You scanned his face. He looked a bit lost in thought, his eyes lidded and mouth poised in something that you assumed to be a sweet, reminiscent smile.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so passionate about our first  _ real _ kiss! But it was so very enchanting! Then how you fell asleep in my lap, it was very endearing if I say so myself.” He held his famous grin the entire time he explained, “I hope you don’t mind. though, I entered your room to place you in your own bed.” A singular nod was given. 

“I figured with how upset you’ve been in the past, you wouldn’t appreciate wakening in a new place.” He explained quickly. So  _ quick. _ He took a few steps forward to close the distance once more.

“...Okay.” You whispered. You brought a hand up and pinched your arm. Hard. You winced. It hadn’t been a dream, it was confirmed. “I-“ you cut yourself off. “ _ Okay _ .” That was all you could bring yourself to say.

Okay, okay, what was okay? The kiss, yes it had been. That was okay? Maybe? You had liked it. You kissed him. That meant it was okay. He wasn’t the best kisser, but he was learning. You were too. You didn’t know what the fuck you were doing.

You sighed heavily, hesitating once more before you spun on your heel and continued your way towards Charlie and Vaggie’s room. He had placed you in your own bed. That was okay. There was a subtle stiffness in the atmosphere as he went silent in a processing way as he mulled over your words and actions that accompanied them. 

The silence was both welcome and suffocating.

“Did you think yourself dreaming when you woke this morning?” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “...That yesterday had been some delirious hallucination?” He eyed where you had pinched yourself and fought back the urge to be offended. 

If you hadn’t pinched yourself, you would have thought he had been a mind reader like Lucifer. But that was merely speculation— you weren’t really  _ sure  _ if the devil was one or not.

“If I said yes, how would you respond?” You said, continuing forward, but managed to return to a more manageable pace. You didn’t need to run a marathon. He had placed you in your bed. He didn’t take advantage of you. He could walk next to you, despite how nervous you still felt because you had quite literally made out with him.

He joined your side once more. “...Initially, while I am honored that your dreams have shifted from nightmares of me to us sharing moments of a tender nature.” He started, his stance and movements subconsciously in tune with yours. “I am also a bit  _ slighted _ to think that you would rather chalk it up to a dream in the first place.” His arms raveled behind him, the bag held loosely in his grip so he could better focus on the fascinating things your face was doing. 

You did have such a lovely countenance, and he very much enjoyed seeing the precious shapes yours lips made.

“Though, I suppose we both  _ do  _ still need more time to figure out this rather intriguing situation we found ourselves in. However, to tell the truth, I look forward to the time we spend together.” If you had been looking at him intently, you would have noticed that his gaze adopted that gentler one. 

You snuck a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

“You’re sweet.” You blurted before you could stop yourself, and in doing so, you nearly tripped over yourself when you had realized what you had just fucking said. You stopped and stared up at him with wide eyes, only to see him also paused mid-step. Your breath caught in your throat. 

What an unexpected development.

Alastor’s movements, his expression, the minute inhalations of his chest, all paused as those words met his ears. 

A pin could have dropped on the floor below them both with how dangerously still he had become. His face was completely frozen in that same eerie grin he chose to wear, and his eyes, as usual, were focused on you. The only change that was able to be seen was the dilation of his pupils growing in size as they tried to focus even harder on your form. You felt them burn into you, and you felt uncomfortable with the intensity of them upon you. 

Self-conscious.

It took a moment for him to right himself once more, and when he did, he immediately brought his hand up to your forehead to check for some semblance of fever. You jolted out of your shock when you felt the coolness of his glove. 

“Darling, are y—“ He was cut off.

“You didn’t hear that.” You were inwardly panicking, too many jumbled thoughts to accurately focus on a single one. You watched him as he furrowed his brows. Why couldn’t you ever just keep things to yourself? You weren’t sure how you were going to get yourself out of this grave you dug yourself. 

You had messed up  _ bad. _

“I did, I’m afraid. Are you feeling yourself?” His hand slid to cup your cheek, checking to see if you felt too hot or too cold. It was very strange for you to be so forthcoming about your thoughts, especially when it came to more...  _ palatable _ things about him. You were absolutely burning. 

You were such an idiot. You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you? You laughed nervously. “No you didn’t. You didn’t hear that, I mean, I said— I said… You’re  _ neat!  _ Yeah! You’re neat! Wait that means the same thing? Maybe? I didn’t say that, no sir, you did not hear that. Haha, you’re so,  _ so _ funny, I need to shut up. I’m gonna shut up now.” Yes, shutting up would be good. Sheesh.

You averted your gaze with a deep-set frown. You were better than this. You bit your tongue to ensure you didn’t say another word. You felt his hand drift from your face after a very  _ long  _ moment, before cautiously burrowing into the spaces of your own fingers, as if he were attempting to comfort you. You weren’t sure if  _ anything  _ could comfort you. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” He questioned slowly. 

You stiffened, and then you looked down at your intertwined hands. Your lip twitched. And then you laughed. “Nope!” You were  _ not  _ feeling alright. “I am not. No sir, I am  _ not.”  _ You wanted to go. You wanted to go very far away and never return. You fucked up again. 

“I take it that was something of an inner monologue that you wish I hadn’t heard?” He murmured, taking a step forward.

You watched as he swept his thumb over your knuckles, and the feeling of him doing that was enough for your stomach to burst into a fury of butterflies. You opened your mouth, and then closed it again. You didn’t speak,  _ couldn’t  _ speak. You knew if you did, you would just say something stupid. You couldn’t face the burning heat.

“I may be able to shed some light on the situation, you know.” It was always so odd to hear just how soft his voice could be. “I too felt very overwhelmed when I first found myself experiencing these feelings. I am not sure what you are feeling, but if it is unfamiliar, I know it can be rather difficult to come to understand what is going on inside.” 

“If you’d prefer, I won’t tell a soul what you said.” He squeezed your hand briefly before letting it go, and rejoined his hands behind his back to hold the bag once again. You stared at your hands for a long moment, entirely too confused at the sensation of  _ loss  _ when he let go.

“How… can you understand when  _ I  _ don’t understand?” You said wearily. “When… I don’t  _ want  _ to understand? I’m—“ You took a step forward, and then another. You couldn’t keep Charlie and Vaggie waiting. “...I’m afraid.” You whispered, and you hoped to god that he hadn’t heard you. 

An inner monologue that had come to light, one that you had been battling with since the very beginning. You were afraid. Of him? No. You weren’t afraid of him anymore. 

You were afraid of what you were feeling. You were afraid of what you were discovering in yourself. What you tried to bury so deep, what you didn’t want to experience. But you were. And it was as wonderful as it was terrifying and confusing.

“See, there you have it.” He joined your side again. “If you don’t  _ want _ to understand, then you are going to continue to struggle with these feelings of uncertainty and confusion, and you won't go anywhere with  _ that _ train of thought.” You couldn’t believe you were having a conversation with him  _ about  _ him. Was he even aware it was about him?

You were sure he was aware. 

“But there aren’t any ways to force you to want to understand. The reason you are struggling so is because deep down, you already know the answer…” He began to trail off. “But! You aren’t quite ready to accept what that answer is. And I’m afraid I can’t assist you in getting to that conclusion, darling. Though I shall wait for you to do so.”

Oh yeah, he knew you were talking about him. 

You bit your bottom lip, pulled it between your teeth and sucked on it. He was right, even if you didn’t want to hear it. You released a sigh alongside your lip, and gave a single, slow nod to show that you had heard him. Didn’t mean you wanted to accept it, though. You were scared to know just what exactly he thought you were feeling, because you hadn’t a fucking clue. Except you did.

You very much did, but you weren’t ready to accept it, just like what he had said. 

Your eyes traced the countless pictures that lined the walls. “I think you can, actually.” You blurted, and you nervously bit your lip again as you focused on the sound of the plastic bags, your steps, and the creaking of the hotel. But. You needed to hear it from someone. And god forbid the only person near you was the person that the problem was about. 

“And how would I go about such a monumental task, hm?” He hummed. 

“You can tell me what I’m feeling.” You slowed your pace to trail behind him, before stopping completely. He turned to face you when he heard your steps slow and fade. When he saw your form staring at your shoes, he stooped to drop the bag on the floor, and came to stand before you.

“Oh darling,” He tilted your chin up to face him. “If I had any capability to see inside that beautiful mind of yours, believe me, I would be delighted.” A murmur as he gazed down at you in what you could only assume was… some form of affection.

But that was often something you questioned yourself, as his smile was so off-putting in the grand scheme of things.

“But I can only speculate on what you’re feeling and hope that you might not hate me as much as you have in the past.” 

You scanned his face for a long moment before sighing. If he saw things so clear, then… “Speculate away.” You searches his face, his eyes, anything that would offer you a semblance of the answers you were so desperate to understand. You wanted to wake up. “I’m so tired of feeling this way.”

“Are you sure? What if I am completely mislead and end up making wild accusations?” His face had scrunched up around his smile, one brow risen, and his ears pivoted towards you just in case he had misheard you. 

“ _ Please.”  _ You were desperate at this point. You felt his hand leave your chin. This madness was so  _ exhausting. _

He let out a chuckle and offered you his hand. “Very well then.”

You hesitated and looked down in confusion as you took it in yours. When you did, you watched him curl his clawed fingers into the spaces of yours slowly, as if he were wary that you would jump out of his grasp the moment he did. You let your hand go limp in his.

“From what I have observed,” he began, eyes trained on your hands for a moment before flickering up to your eyes. “As you are well aware, I have been… known to misconstrue certain things in the past. I should think that you don’t hate me as much as you used to, and because now that your emotions are on a more positive spectrum, you are a bit… lost on how to react.” He gave you a second to process his explanation before continuing on.

“Now that those feelings have shifted, it’s rather terrifying to realize such a thing when you thought that you had figured everything out, only for everything you believe to be so, to change completely.” His gaze grew distant, as if he were too deep in thought about your feelings. The only anchor seemingly between you both at the moment were your joined hands. 

“Transformations happen down here often, mon amour.” His tongue curled around the foreign phrase masterfully. “Not all of them are so horrifying though. Perhaps though, for you, this may be the most terrifying thing to happen to you.” He smiled sadly around the last words he spoke as he regained himself. 

You stared up at him owlishly, your mouth opening to say something, but the words forming into nothingness before they could escape. You closed your mouth. You did this twice before tearing your gaze off of him, your eyebrows knitted and your face contorted into something of deep contemplation. 

You tried to channel your deepest feelings, emotions, thoughts, and all the things you were battling with to what he had just said. The thing that terrified you the most was that all the puzzle pieces fit in the right places. He was right. “...Keep going.” You choked out. Everything was so  _ quiet,  _ heartfelt, and heavy. 

“About what, sweetheart?” He was patient, voice calm, and lower than usual. Even his static was nearly non-existent. He understood things a fraction better than you did, and he knew he needed to remain calm so as not to frighten you away. Not when you were so close to accepting what you were actually feeling. 

“I-“ you closed your eyes for a long moment. “ _ Tell me.” _ You needed to hear it. “I can’t— I need you to tell me… what that is. That description, what… is it?” You couldn’t do this alone. You looked at him, then. “ _ Please _ , Al.” You were so lost. 

So confused. So everything. This was more than you had ever asked for. More than you had ever expected to come to light. 

He released a sigh from his nostrils and bent, leaning his body over yours so as to almost encase you with his presence. He aligned your faces, and dropped the bag to the floor, ignoring the clatter that resounded from the inside. His now free hand took your other one, so that you would both be joined completely. “I adore you.” He spilled. 

Your eyes widened. 

“In fact, darling, I believe I am coming to love you.” His thumbs brushed synonymously across your knuckles. “I can only hope that some feelings of fondness reside within you when it comes to me.” An explanation, at last. 

“This isn’t exactly the smoothest road I’ve ever walked upon though, and from the tales I have heard in the past, the course of such emotion never did run smooth.” He squeezed your hands gently, his eyes becoming crinkled in the corners with how he was smiling at you. So gentle. 

“You—“ you felt your breath give out, and just as you were about to respond in what would most likely be a storm of stumbles and fumbles, Charlie’s voice called out from down the hall.

“Hey! You guys alright out here? Vaggie and I were just...” She looked at you both before sliding back behind her door. “Nevermind, you guys just uh… carry on. Vaggie and I will be waiting for you.” You could have sworn you heard her call for Vaggie when the door was audibly closed with a click. At the very least, that gave you enough time to take in a very loud, and very deep breath.

As shaky as it was. You looked back at him with knitted brows, a softer expression underlying your own. He adored you. “We, um, can talk about this later? Yeah, later. Let’s go.” You untangled your left hand from his, but let him hold your right one. Your anchor. You picked your bags up again. You would have probably collapsed if you hadn’t. 

“Of course, darling.” He snapped his fingers and his bag slid on over to him before hopping into his hand. Lazy. 

You stared a long moment, before blinking a multitude of times. You would never get used to his abilities. Anyways. You took a few steps forward and dragged him with you. 

You only unhooked your fingers from his when you stood in front of the door. You turned to him then. “Um, you can help, if you’d like. Or you can go do whatever… it is that you do.” You said awkwardly before letting go of his hand. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not now at least. 

“But if you stay, be  _ good.”  _ Well, as good as Alastor could get. 

“Yes, yes, of course!” He grabbed your hand again happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of the door. 

You stared with a raised brow, stock still. Hesitantly, you let go of his hand again only after tugging him down and nervously hovering your lips over his cheek. “...Can I?” You couldn’t believe you were doing this. But it wouldn’t be the first time you had done such a questionable thing. 

“You never have to ask me, little one.” He watched you from the corner of his eyes.

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his cheek for the longest of moments before you pulled back, only to offer him the smallest of nervous smiles. There was a heavy blush dancing across his cheeks and his nose, and his lips had closed over his smile, as if he had something to hide.

_ Endearing. _

“Come on.” You sighed, before you turned and twisted the knob to let the two of you in. 


	40. Glitter-Gate

The silence that led up to the moment you entered the room could have very well made your damn heart crawl up your throat. 

The deep, red hue of mid-day was something you found to be at your disposal, for you were sure that your face could have rivaled such a shade otherwise. The color blossomed around your nose and cheeks, a subtle warmth that had always wallowed just beneath the surface of your skin.

It caused you to take note of just how heated the hotel had to be in order to compete with the drastic weather that the outside world harbored. Although, it wasn’t uncomfortable more so than it was alarming of what exactly had occurred to bring you to where you were now: a blushing, flustered mess.

But of course you wouldn’t be a blushing, flustered mess if you hadn’t pestered him for information; if you hadn’t heard him tell you that he, well,  _ adored you.  _ You could try your hardest to convince yourself—lie to yourself—that it didn’t affect you, and it probably would have worked if, you know, you didn’t have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. 

You took the initiative to dust your fingertips across the golden doorknob and, as they involuntarily twitched, you held your breath, put your brave face on, and turned it.

There were a lot of things you could have done differently, a whole load of responses you could have better come up with, but you hadn’t. You could give yourself ten thousand reasons to sucker punch yourself in the gut, but you knew that in the end, it had been your decision. 

It had been your idea to kiss him again, on the cheek, yes, but it was  _ still _ a kiss. It had  _ meant  _ something.

If given the option, you weren’t sure if you would change that, even if your chest felt so heavy with warmth and something you had never experienced before you had met him. Perhaps if he talked enough sense into you, you would finally lose yourself in the madness of it all. He was the makeshift anchor in the sea you had lost yourself in, and you the lone sailor. What more could you possibly want?

The freedom of finally being free from the chains of your mind when it came to him— how easy it would be to just… _give in._ But that was far easier said than done. Because even if everything was in perfect harmony and you were in a place where you wouldn’t change a thing, you knew you would find a reason to question yourself. 

Because you were just that incredulous. Generally, when things felt too good to be true, they usually were. 

But you had a tendency to get off track, and you found yourself peering into the room with wide, searching eyes. You prayed that Charlie and Vaggie wouldn’t comment on the blatantly obvious scarlet blush that shrouded both yours and Alastor’s faces. “Hey, uh, Alastor is coming in.” You murmured softly, attempting to hide the better half of your face against the cool door. But alas, you had a job to do.

You pushed it open.

You weren’t sure if they had even heard you, because when you fully stepped in, the expression of pure irritation that fell upon the moth demon’s face told you otherwise. She glared at the presence behind you with a cross of her arms. 

Charlie, at the very least looked surprised, and not entirely bothered at the company. She rested a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder in an attempt to placate the building tension. 

Alastor didn’t seem the least bit bothered as he brushed past you with a flourish.

“Hello, ladies!” He greeted in a louder than normal tone, and you winced. You noticed his hand twitch next to yours, but you found yourself charmed by the boyish, close-lipped smile that adorned his expression. Slowly, you glanced back to see Charlie whispering to Vaggie. Her singular eye had widened, both eyebrows raised before she looked at her girlfriend in surprise. You blinked. 

You were afraid to know what they were whispering about. 

“Um, alright.” A nervous laugh escaped her as she awkwardly looked between you, her girlfriend, and your… guest. Slowly, Charlie separated from Vaggie. 

You wished they would just get on with it and question the elephant in the room, but nevertheless, you watched idly as Charlie set down her bags and settled down upon her knees at the center of the floor.

You supposed that was your cue. 

You spun on your heel and looked up at Alastor. For a moment, you found yourself nervously biting your lip as you scanned his still rather blushy face. “Can I have the bag, please?” His close proximity made everything worse and you just.  _ UGH _ . Distraction, distraction. You needed distraction. 

If he wouldn’t give you the bag, then you would pry it out of his cold dead hands for the promise of being diverted from the thoughts that were already beginning to seep back into your mind. Thankfully, he seemed more than pleased to offer you the goods. But of course, he could only do such a thing by offering it to you in the only way he knew how: 

With a dramatic flare.

“Of course, mon chère!” You squinted your eyes as he bowed in a gentleman-esque fashion. Mon chère; oh, yes, you knew what  _ that  _ meant. You heard it from Beauty and the Beast, once upon a time. Alas, you couldn’t bring yourself to question it. As soon as you hooked your fingers around the plastic, you took the bag from him before he even had the chance to further expand on his show. 

“Thanks.” You offered quickly, tossing him a quick, but gentle, smile. Just as fast, you turned back around and took two steps forward before pausing. You allowed yourself to fall to your knees in an audible ‘thump’ against the carpet. Ouch. The tension in the room was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife, and with how Vaggie had begun to glare daggers at Alastor, it didn’t make it any easier.

“So um,” You began, before you took a deep, shaky breath. You attempted to reel in on your emotions and did the thing that you were best at: pushing them to the back of your mind until you were forced to face them again. Picking the bag up, you turned it upside down and let the contents fall to the floor. Bottles of glitter tumbled out, an assortment of blues, greens, reds (of course), pinks, whites, purples, and yellows. Honestly, it was just the colors of the rainbow, if not a bit more.

A silly smile fluttered upon your lips. “Well, we have a  _ lot _ of glitter.” 

The sound of the floorboards creaking and the tell-tale feeling of static made you aware of how exceedingly close he was to you. You guessed you would just have to get used to that, though. 

“There  _ is  _ such a thing as too much glitter.” Alastor commented.

“Never!” Charlie beamed as she bounced on her knees in excitement. “I would have gotten even more if Vaggie hadn’t stopped me!” Her eyes lit up as her fingers twitched in eagerness. If she could, she would have doused the entire room in glitter. It was just… so pretty! So sparkly! She hadn’t been aware that there were so many colors available; everything in Hell was often so drab and  _ red.  _ Even the red glitter was so vibrant and actually nice to look at. It didn’t remind her of home, at the very least.

She did seem a bit disappointed that Vaggie had only allowed her to pick out  _ seven  _ glitters.

You giggled softly, repositioning yourself so your legs wouldn’t go numb underneath you. Charlie was often enthusiastic about things, but when it came to her dream, you doubted anything would ever be able to top it. The sound of Vaggie sighing caused your attention to fall upon her, and you noticed that the only two on the floor were you and Charlie. It probably had to do with the fact that Alastor was in the room. 

You didn’t blame her.

Charlie reached up and tugged at the bottom of her dress, and with one more glance towards the Radio Demon, she gave into her lover’s desires and joined the two of you on the floor. “Corazon, we didn’t need that much.” She tried to placate the disappointment on Charlie’s face by placing a hand on her shoulder. Vaggie looked over at the glitters and sighed. “We  _ don’t  _ need that much.”

You noticed the stalemate. “I’m sure we could do…  _ something  _ with it.” Eventually. In the future. Maybe. You guessed the majority would just go into the attic to be forgotten, though. Down here, there wasn’t much need for glitter; but perhaps after Charlie’s dream was completed, there would be. The gasp that resounded from behind you caused you to look back at Alastor who was… already leaning over you and stretching out his hand, clawed fingers wiggling towards the supplies tantalizingly.

“I have an idea!” He declared. “May I use some of this paper and red glitter?” You weren’t sure who he was talking to until his roaming eyes landed on you. You immediately felt yourself coil into embarrassment. Flusteredness? From him? Or was it because his gaze was settled on you so sweetly? Before the heat in your cheeks could rise, you tore your eyes off of him and looked over to Charlie and Vaggie. They remained silent for a moment before Vaggie leaned back and groaned out an ‘ugh’. 

“Just don’t use it all.” She watched as Alastor reached over and snagged the red glitter. “And  _ don’t  _ make a mess.” There were a whole lot of warnings she wanted to yell at him, but she managed to bite her tongue and hold back.

You were in the process of gathering glue and some paper, as you weren’t sure what his grand idea was. Truth be told, if he wasn’t immediately spilling, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to find out. Whisking it towards you, you held up the construction paper and glue to him with a raised brow. 

As he grabbed it from you, you watched as his grin turned into that infamous one before leaning forward and tapping you on the nose. “Thank you, darling! It’s much appreciated.” He held the supplies in the crook of his elbow, replacing where his microphone normally was. As he leaned back and strolled over to a table in the corner, said microphone popped into existence, and he let the head of it drag on the floor, which, in turn, only summoned some sort of shadow-like creature. 

It was odd to see a shadow take form to best match a demon of such high calibre, and the three of you stared owlishly as it forged itself into one that matched Alastor. It took you only a moment to realize that it was the same exact shadow… creature thing that not only had followed you numerous times, but had also interacted with you on that one specific occasion. It was sentient in a way that you would never fully comprehend. 

Charlie, Vaggie, and yourself stared with a wide set of eyes as the entity gained some sort of mass and took the seat opposite of him. A pin from a grenade could have dropped and you would have been none the wiser, so intently focused on the two of them that when you did manage to reign yourself in, you had let out a low whistle. You turned back around, leaned forward, and grabbed at the paper. 

The intensity of the air seemed to ease, now that he was further occupied with… whatever he was doing. It was off-putting to see him act in such a manner, with so much enthusiasm and excitement for something so mundane. He always had flare to him, but it never failed to leave you surprised when he stepped it up a notch. Vaggie and Charlie looked like they wanted to say something, but you were already eager to move on.

“Okay. So, flyers.” You started, looking over everything. You mulled over your thoughts for a moment. “We need to sell the idea.  _ Convince  _ them that they should stay with us, right?” Charlie nodded eagerly out of the corner of your eye, and upon placing the tubes of glitter in order from brightest to darkest, you turned your head to give her your full attention.

Charlie was eager to get a move on, while Vaggie was still hesitant to let her guard down around the Radio Demon. “We can do that with the glitter! Everyone  _ loves _ glitter!  _ OH _ , what if we--” She was cut off when Vaggie leaned over, put a hand to Charlie’s shoulder, and patted her. The moth demon grabbed a pen and began to jot down ideas once the princess was calmed down just a bit.

“Free housing could be a huge selling point.” She added. “I mean I think that’s the main reason we have Angel Dust to begin with.” She explained. “Though, I  _ was _ tempted to make him pay after that stunt he pulled.” She sneered at the rather foul memory. 

Charlie frowned. It was weird to see her frown. You must have come down right after that had happened. “Yeah, that wasn’t… good.” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. You wanted to find out exactly what happened, but you knew that to get any work done, you needed to stay on track.

If not, you would probably be working on this for the rest of eternity. “So, any ideas--” 

“Chester, you really mustn't be so messy! We are  _ guests _ here. Sweep up the glitter, good fellow!” Alastor cut off the conversation with his own admonishment of his shadow who apparently had made a mess of the glitter. You let your head fall as the three of you were distracted from your job. The shadow in turn, ‘Chester’, nodded and swept the glitter into its hand. The remains vanished completely in a similar manner of a black hole. Or perhaps even a void. Once it went in, it never came back out.

“There’s a good lad, carry on!” A tone of a pleased man, and you waited for a long moment in silence before the humming started up again. You inhaled, held your breath, and huffed out:

“...Do we have any ideas?”

Vaggie wasn’t thrilled with the fact that there were now  _ two  _ Alastor’s. One was a shadow version of him, but  _ still.  _ “Yeah, I have an idea!” She hissed. “This is weird!” She stared at the two individuals despite attempting to lower her voice into a hushed, but urgent manner. “The Radio Demon is in our room making an arts and crafts project!” Vaggie pointed towards him, her nose crinkled in something akin to distrust or… disgust.

“Why is he even here anyway?” She huffed in question as she turned to face you. Charlie had stopped what she was doing, which was admiring the way the glitter changed colors if you turned it in different lighting, and looked up at you too. Of course they would want to know; Charlie was just too kind to blurt out the question that everyone wanted to answer to. Honestly, you wanted the same answer.

Because  _ you _ didn’t know. 

So you mouthed the first thing that came to mind. ‘He said he loved me’. You tore your gaze away and leaned over to grab another piece of paper, just to crumble it together in a manner to ease your anxieties. It was a waste of a paper, sure, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to give a damn in that moment. 

“He said that?” Vaggie blurted as she gaped at you, completely unsure of what else to say before she pointed towards the humming mess of a demon in the corner of  _ her  _ room. 

You never moved so fast in your life. “SH!” You sprung over and put a hand to her mouth, paired with wide eyes. Vaggie let out an alarmed sound. “ _ Sh.”  _ You nodded rapidly after letting your hand fall from her face. You looked over to Charlie then who was… practically buzzing with excitement. She had literal stars in her eyes, her fists up to her face. She looked like she was going to burst.

If she did, it probably would have been with confetti. Not blood and guts.

“Darling! Ladies!” The Radio Demon hollered from his position, and your posture immediately stiffened. “Don’t mind me, please do carry on with your gossip! I am quite occupied!” There was a moment of silence, and your face burned. He had heard you. 

“Chester, are you having trouble?” A pause. “Alright then, hold on.” There was a sound of a chair scooting.

You clenched the paper in your hand, completely destroying it in a crumpled mess. “We’re not talking about you.” You lied, shaking your head.

“Whatever you say darling!” He sang back. “It’s not as if I have heightened hearing due to my enlarged ears… Chester, you poor unfortunate thing, hold on, I’ll get you a brush.” You could hear the smugness in his voice.

You reeled your arm back and threw the balled up piece of paper at him. Stupid ears. Charlie released a squeal of happiness, and that caused you to look at her in confusion. She was holding back on saying something. You knew, Vaggie knew, and probably that dumb deer demon knew too from how large his ears were. 

“I can summon a knife for you to throw at him instead.” Vaggie piped up. “Y’know, because he’s not even  _ helping. _ ” She raised her voice at the last part. You leaned back, running your hand through the tresses of your hair.

“Vaggie! Look, he’s not hurting anything... like at  _ all, _ which is a huge improvement.” Charlie side-eyed Alastor. “Can’t we just do what we’re going to do while he’s… doing his own thing?” She wrapped her arms around one of Vaggie’s, leaned into her side, looked wide eyed up at her, and batted her lashes in appeasement.

“Good idea.” You said quickly. 

You didn’t want him to be the center of the topic anymore. You wanted a distraction and gosh darn it, you were going to get one. “ _ Ideas?”  _ You questioned tiredly, again. Vaggie and Charlie looked over to you then, with Charlie still leaning on Vaggie. You motioned towards the papers and glitter.

“Oh.” Charlie stated. She let go of Vaggie then, leaning forward, the smallest of blushes adorning her cheeks in embarrassment. “I mean, the job market down here isn’t the greatest, and things still cost money. Maybe we could advertise jobs too!” Whatever second-hand emotions had begun to flutter rapidly in her chest were snuffed out the moment the topic of her dream was brought up again. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good one.” You smiled, “We can make a Help Wanted sign?” A tilt of your head. “And in doing so, we can also advertise that there’s free housing. And- and.” You gasped, eyes lighting up. “In the fine print, because you should  _ always  _ read the fine print, we put the mission for the hotel.”

Charlie squealed and clapped her hands together before jumping onto you. You laughed, but were ultimately pushed down from the sudden intrusive weight. A six foot one demon jumping onto you would  _ never  _ bode well. “That’s a great idea! This is going to be amaaaazing! You are amazing!” She nuzzled into you, ecstatic that someone finally believed in her and her ideas, other than Vaggie of course. 

Vaggie hid her smile behind her hand while she looked at the two of you. 

You grinned, happy to be there to help her. You also felt like it was  _ right.  _ That this was something that could lead to something bigger and better. “I couldn’t be amazing without you.” You hugged her back, your elbow bent on one arm in an attempt to hold you up.

After a giggle, she let you go and returned to her space happily.

“Chester, I know you’re trying,” Alastor’s voice sighed in a wave of static. You pushed yourself back up. “But perhaps you should go... sit with the ladies and help them!”

“Absolutely fucking no-” Vaggie was cut off as the Radio Demon raised his voice to dominate the conversation.

“You keep making a mess, and I know the guests in the microphone are not going to be happy about being smothered in glue and bits of glitter.” The entity known as Chester, turned the moment you had looked over to see what the hell was going on. The eternal blue, gaping maw had shut and turned into what resembled a frown. 

Alastor’s back was turned to the three of you. “I know. I realize you are trying to help, yes, but maybe you would be of greater use to our little darling over there.” He pat ‘Chester’ on the back. Somehow, his hand didn’t go through the mist. The shadow huffed as it slunk across the floor and over to you. 

The three of you stiffened, the color escaping your face. 

You weren’t sure how to react, so you kinda just…  _ gaped _ at it. It was a lot closer. Colder than you remembered, but perhaps that had to do with the fact that you weren’t in the freezing cold. Your eyes were trained on the black mass, unsure of where to focus as it didn’t exactly have a specific figure. ‘Oblivion’ would have been a better fitting name for such a colorless creature. You only blinked when you saw a shadowy tendril point towards the glitter. You stared for an exceedingly long time. 

And then it clicked. 

Mischievously, you grinned. “Which glitter do we  _ not  _ need?” You looked to Charlie and Vaggie who were now looking staring at ‘Chester’ with unhinged jaws. They were shocked into silence, unsure of how to accurately react. How do you react to something of that nature, anyway? Luckily for you, you had already been introduced. Probably not on the best terms, you would admit, but at least you were  _ sort of  _ numbed to the experience. 

Vaggie shut her mouth quickly. “I mean, I…” You never heard her at a loss for words. “I picked up this black one, but uh, I think we’re sticking to the rainbow.” Vaggie eyed the shadow warily, but slid the unopened bottle over to you. 

You grabbed it and gave it to Chester, before pointing to Alastor. Your eyes were crinkled. “Do you understand?” 

The shadow held the glitter in one of it’s tendrils, and kept the lid on while pointing to his master while tipping the unopened container over, with its head cocked to the side. 

“Oh my god.” Vaggie stated.

You laughed. “Yeah.” 

The shadow started to grin, the strange gaping maw returning to its usual state as he slid back over the floor to be behind it’s master, who was still contentedly humming. Blissfully unaware. Then, just as quickly, the bottle of glitter exploded, the shadow unable to open the container like a normal person. A flash of black and silver sparkles cascaded over the demon while the shadow laughed, minus the sound. 

There was a long moment of a dramatic pause as Alastor looked up and heaved a great sigh.

“I can’t take you anywhere, truly.” The chair squeaked as he stood up in a manner of neither disbelief nor fury as if he were completely unsurprised at the hijinx that the shadow had just performed. With a few very deer-like shakes of his body to be rid of the loose glitter, he pointed to the shadow. “Can’t live with you, but I can’t quite live  _ without _ you either.” If you could name a proper equivalent to the tone of his voice, it would have been a very tired parent. 

Charlie had a hand over her mouth.

Vaggie was trying not to laugh.

You, however, were losing your damn mind, leaning on Charlie with tears of pure amusement.

“Heavens, I swear you’re doing this just to impress those ladies. I don’t understand how my own shadow can be so utterly different from me!” He exclaimed as he settled back into his seat and snapped his fingers, cleaning the surrounding area of the fallen glitter. 

“Go on, go back to your friends, Chester, I cannot bring myself to look at you.” He resumed his humming while his shadow slithered back over the floor and happily wrapped a tendril around your ankle. You had never known a shadow to look so cute. 

You couldn’t fucking breathe. “Good—” You laughed, “Good job.” You wiped a tear out of your eyes, your laughter fading into giggles. 

“Do you want to help?” Charlie asked the shadow, a curious expression upon her face as she offered him some paper of his own, with one of the many bottles of red glitter she had bought. 

At the very least, the prank seemed to ease the tension in the air that still remained. The shadow nodded eagerly and you all watched as Chester messily smeared glue over some paper in a few nonsensical shapes before ultimately dumping and smearing the glitter to cover it.

“That looks…” You started. 

“It looks great!” Charlie grinned, finding herself softening for the enchanted creature. 

Vaggie, however, was just as wary of it as she was with Alastor, but she couldn’t say she wasn’t enthralled with the fact that it had spilled glitter all over the Radio Demon. “Charlie, are you sure—” She whispered.

Charlie peered up at her girlfriend. “Vaggie, look at them both,” She pointed to the shadow that was reminiscent of a toddler and the literal Radio Demon who was doing arts and crafts. “Do they look like they’re gonna do anything? I mean Al is still covered in glitter, but he’s fine, and Chester is keeping… itself occupied. They’re both just fine, if they start getting rowdy, I’ll kick them out myself.” She assured. 

Vaggie frowned, but nodded once.

You, however, were now outlining the words  _ ‘Help Wanted’ _ in a black marker on a piece of construction paper. Thankfully, the wait for them to help you didn’t take too long, and so, after glitter-gate, everything seemed to calm down. The three of you kept your heads down and started planning out several different flyer designs to post throughout the pentagram, as well as working on just what to put for the Hotel’s mission statement for the fine print at the bottom of the help wanted sign.

Charlie, in all of her demonic glory was able to enlarge and reinforce one of the pieces of paper so it would be large enough and sturdy enough to be placed outside

When all was said and done, you all had several different designs of flyers, and about thirty done. While the masterpiece of the moment was the help wanted sign. Charlie had taken over for that because she had the prettiest handwriting. When in a group project, you  _ always  _ picked the person with the prettiest handwriting. 

At this point, you were staring at the posters with your hands on your hips proudly. It looked great. “It’s really good.” You compliment. “Good work, we’ll do some more—” 

“Darling! I’ve made you something!” Alastor announced proudly. 

You were cut off by Alastor’s words and you looked over your shoulder in confusion. Your eyebrows were knitted together. Vaggie and Charlie looked over as well, and Chester disappeared back into Alastor’s microphone; losing the flexibility and staggering amount of composure and… other stuff. 

What was a living shadow made out of? 

“Here you are!” There was a large piece of paper being presented to you that had pink paper swirls and plenty of glitter sprawling outwards from a heart and in the bottom corner, it simply read, in long elegant cursive: For my darling. “This is the proper type of heart, correct?”

You stared at the card for a long moment, your fingertips twitching as you took a step forward and hesitated, before taking it from him. Your eyebrows continued to knit together, your chest tight and your stomach doing flips. And then you released a soft giggle, looking up at him then. “Yeah, it’s the right type of heart.” 

“Wonderful! Well, It has been a lovely time spent around you darling,” He paused and nodded to Charlie and Vaggie, “But I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He grabbed your hand lightly before he kissed your knuckles and then disappeared in a flash of glitter.

You stared at the spot he had been in, before turning to Charlie and Vaggie with a weak smile. They stared in a mixture of confusion and, for Charlie, fondness. 

“He’s… not all that bad.”


	41. I Ain’t Got No Sleep Cause of Ya’ll, Ya’ll Not Gettin’ No Sleep Cause of Me

Your fingertips trailed lightly across the knob of the shower, the coolness of the untouched metal chilling your heated, sticky skin. You were a mess that just so happened to _ also _ be covered in glue, glitter, and pieces of construction paper. As you stripped, you peeled off the glue that had somehow found its way on the back of your shirt and tossed it into the trash bin. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot. 

Chester had used the majority of the glue.

After being released from your new job requirements, you were more than eager to get clean, hop in warm pajamas, and then pass out for the night. 

Reaching over, you twisted the lever that controlled the water flow in order to achieve as near a perfect temperature and pressure as you could get. Perfect was hard to come by down in the pits of Hell, but if you could get hot water and silence, then that was all the perfection you needed. 

You allowed the warmth to greet you as you stepped into the small space. Of course, such peace was short lived; and the constricting feeling within your chest caused your thoughts to falter to your heart. And hearts often symbolized love. Alastor had said he adored you.

Aw fuck.

He had stemmed emotions in you that were foreign, thus you lingered on the ones that you had become familiar with. Those were cold and often left you feeling, well, _ like this. _ But the ones that he gave you, the ones you had begun to share with him made you feel warm, fuzzy, and good_. _ He had given you a card with a ‘lumpy equilateral triangle’ on it. Your face warmed at the thought of such a gift. 

So silly, so endearing, so… _ him_. 

You hated the confliction with an intense burning passion though, and you sometimes wondered how the hell he put up with you.

Because you wore _ yourself _ out. 

You rested your head on the tiled wall with a low groan, your arms limp at your sides as warm droplets raced down your back. A pleasurable contrast of coolness that rivaled the heat of the shower... or perhaps that was just the cogs in your mind setting aflame after so much time spent thinking_. _You were always thinking.

You sighed and put a dollop of shampoo in your palm and rubbed it through your hair. The small vicinity was immediately shrouded in the scent of lavender and lilac. Your muscles began to relax instantaneously. 

Perhaps if you were relaxed, your thoughts would as well.

The only way that you could further such relaxation was to actually _ talk _to Alastor. For whatever reason, when you did, your thoughts were hushed. He was an escape from reality. He was the antidote to whatever virus you had, and nothing pissed you off more. Because of course he would be. 

Of _ course. _

There was no need to imagine a crazier situation, because you seriously doubted anything could top it. Nothing made sense in the grand scheme of things. What was it that you were trying to figure out? Your feelings? Your desires? His feelings? Well, he had already told you, hadn’t he? You were a product of who’s, what’s, where’s, and why’s. Now, somehow, you needed to get answers to them. 

But you weren’t sure what to ask to even get those answers. 

It had to do with the sparks he spurred in you. It had to do with how you felt so nervous and almost giddy thinking about him now. That was all you knew. Everything else was so… alien. He adored you, but you couldn’t for the life of you, figure out what you felt. It wasn’t hatred, it wasn’t distaste, nor annoyance. He made you feel _ something. _He made you feel alive. 

Bittersweet sentiments.

If you continued on, this confliction would rip you apart. You knew that it needed to stop. You hated feeling so lost, so exhausted over whatever this was, but if there was anything that you learned in your time down here, it was that you were willing to practically do anything to get the answers you wanted. You just needed to take the first step.

And to do that, you needed to talk to him again. Needed to figure out if he meant what he said, if he even knew the intensity of meaning behind such specific words. The emotional ties that came with it. Did he know what he was doing to you? He raced through your head on the daily. 

You shut off the warm water, letting out a long, drawn out breath before stepping out. You wrapped yourself in a warm, fluffy towel, journeyed to the sink, brushed your hair, brushed your teeth, and then trailed out to the main room. A deep inhale was taken before you released it, just as you found yourself staring at the warm bed that was beckoning you. 

You could so easily just hop in and fall asleep. 

You frowned, holding the towel up with a fist. Your thoughts were merciless. You were naive, but you weren’t stupid. You knew when you had to do something. What that something was though was as clear to you as trying to walk while blindfolded. In simpler terms, you didn’t have a _ clue. _

Your stomach coiled in nausea of discomfort due to the realization of what you were about to confront: your feelings. You padded over to the closet, pulled it open, and got changed for the night. If you were going to do this, you bet your ass you were going to do it in the comfort of these clothes. They were your new pair that you had gotten on your shopping spree with Charlie and Vaggie.

It was a long-sleeved fleece onesie well suited for facing the elements of Hell’s winter. The material was soft and plush to the touch upon tracing your fingers over it, but once you put it on, the warmer, denser fleece became apparent. Horizontal stripes covered it top to bottom, alternating between a white, red, and navy pattern. You smoothed it out in the mirror, shimmying into it further. 

Sporting matching fluffy navy socks, because gosh darn it, it was _ cold, _you anxiously made your way out of your room and began to trek towards his. Your heartbeat was elevated the entire time, completely contrasted to how it was when you had been in the shower. Ironic how he just so happened to be the one to ease your mind just as much as he was the one to put your thoughts on repeat, over and over again. 

You held your opposite elbow in your hand. The enormity of the hotel wasn’t something to scoff at. The hallways had always been long, but they seemed almost unending during the night when paired with the shadows upon the walls and vacancy of the vicinity. You were glad that there was at least a _ bit _of dimness that remained on during the twilight hours. Of course, now your thoughts had decided to press the pause on just to better bring attention to your paranoia. 

You were in Hell, and the things that went bump in the night were _ real. _

Why were you doing this again? 

Suddenly, you found yourself in an all too familiar hallway, and as if you were simply a puppet and something else was controlling you, you were at a looming, intimidating door before you could take a full breath. You blinked warily, your face twisting in uncertainty before you let your elbow go and raised it to knock gently at the door. Once, twice, and finally a third.

Just as quickly, you lowered it and… immediately began regretting your decision. Maybe you would luck out and he wouldn’t be in his room, maybe he would be practicing his voodoo hoodoo somewhere away from the hotel. Maybe he was away from the hotel, maybe he hadn’t heard you? maybe you could get out of here before he opened the—

The door opened slowly at first, creaking and whining at the hinges, just enough to see who it was that had dared to knock at such an hour. Or so you supposed. And then a light flickered on and you were greeted with Alastor who was clad in silk pajamas, his hair a bit ruffled but free of glitter. His monocle was missing. Had he been sleeping? 

“Darling,” He addressed you. “I wasn’t expecting you at this…” His eyes flicked to the clock behind you. “...Late of an hour.” He stated.

“Yeah, uh, me either.” You blurted. You couldn’t believe you were here to begin with.

You watched silently as he opened the door further. 

An uncomfortable noise escaped you as you averted your eyes. Such motions only lasted for the briefest of seconds before your gaze fell to your feet. Your fluffy socks. “I… was the one that came here, right. You’re right. Um. I mean, fuck—“ God damn, you really were an embarrassment. 

His eyes had lost that original threatening intensity they held when he had first opened the door, instead now softly glowing as they were set on you. “Are you quite alright?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

It was too late to make a break for it.

Your face flushed. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. You weren’t sure what to say. 

There was silence for a moment before the sound of the floorboards creaking alerted you of movement. You peeked up, only to see him stand back. You lifted your head curiously. 

“Would you like to come in?” He inquired. 

You stared at the space that he allowed, only to hesitate. Lightly, entirely able to be missed if he hadn’t been staring at you so intently, you nodded. Your leg felt so heavy the moment you tried to lift it, as if it were tied down with weight, but you managed. When you entered, you weren’t sure what you had been expecting. 

Everything looked the same, but the board did have more notes on it. 

You didn’t look at it long enough to read, as you rubbed your arm, sucking in your bottom lip and gnawing on it anxiously. A habit at this point. You were here to talk to him. Talk to him about what he had said. But how do you just… talk about something that held so much importance? 

This probably could have waited until the morning. 

The sound of the door closing gave you an exceptionally harsh kick of reality. You were here now. There was no turning back. You watched silently, taking the time it took for him to reach a richly cushioned couch to get a control of your emotions. You needed to get ahold of yourself. 

_ Get a grip. _

“I assume you’re here because you need to get something off of your chest.” He said as he passed you, and you caught his side-glance. When he settled himself on the couch, having no visible qualms about wrapping a blanket around himself, he continued. “Otherwise, darling, you seldom enter.” His eyes, always having dark circles beneath them day to day, now looked darker and deeper than ever.

He looked so boyish in such a drastically different, if not comfortable attire, alongside with how his hair fluffed up and spiked in different directions. He didn’t bother fixing it, for he had no act to keep up around you. You weren’t sure how to feel about that blatantly obvious observation.

It was weird, but… nice. 

You both wished he would stay like that because, dare you say it, he still rocked the lazy look. But you also wished he would be in regular clothing and keep up that egotistical prick persona that you both despised and couldn’t get enough of. You _ also _ weren’t sure how to feel about literally being the only other person to have seen him so… relaxed.

Ah, the spotlight was on you now. Such an odd thing for Alastor to give that up so willingly. Actually, no, you put yourself in the spotlight just by being here. Ugh. “Um.” A deep blush formed upon your cheeks, mouth opening and closing like it so often did when you were at a loss for words. 

“You… said something important, uh, earlier. I’m not sure if you meant it.” Here we go again. “I’m not sure if you knew what you were talking about, I’m not even sure what _ I’m _talking about. I kinda wanted to see you, but fuck, no I didn’t? You confuse me. You’re confusing. I—” You rambled, only to be cut off by the sound of a hand hitting a cushion. 

“Are you quite finished?” Alastor pat the spot next to him. In doing so, he procured another blanket out of seemingly thin air. It looked light and warm, and you found yourself longing to curl yourself into the softness it undoubtedly offered. 

You stared at the spot for a long while, your mind racing and sputtering out a plethora of stupid things you would have said if you opened your mouth. You didn’t, thankfully. 

A chill ran up your spine at the thought of being so close to him again. Swallowing down your nervousness, you walked over and sat down next to him, stiffly and in uncertainty. You watched owlishly as he unfolded the blanket, leaned over, and practically tucked you in next to him. 

You still had your personal bubble of about a foot, and he respected that as he leaned back and faced you, the majority of his back against the corner of his furniture. With one leg crossed over the other, and his elbow resting upon the armrest, he spoke up again, and you looked down to your lap, toying with the knitted fabric of the blanket. 

“Would all this confusion be from what I said earlier about _ your _feelings, or does this stem from what I have shared of my own?” He questioned with a slight head tilt. 

“Both.” You blurted.

In comparison to your adrenaline-ridden expression, his was tired; a lipped smile, hand suddenly on his cheek as if he were trying to keep awake. Was that guilt you were feeling? “...Would you care to be more specific?” He asked. 

Bruh, what? Your face contorted into a comical ‘really?’ one. He knew exactly what you were up here for, he had to have known. You wanted to hide and never return. You also suddenly really wanted to find a way out of this conversation, but you were here, and you doubted that you would be able to reach the door without falling face first.

You were all sorts of shaky. Nervous and anxious, namely. But if he really wanted you to just go ahead and spill the beans, you would. 

“You said you loved me.” Your face was not helping with your case of trying to remain calm; you were practically a tomato at this point. At his low chuckle, you hesitated, but turned to look at him only to see that a light blush dusted across his own cheeks. The thought of covering your head with the blanket briefly crossed your mind. You didn’t manage to get quite that far though, as you were too inquisitive on the fact that he was blushing. You _ made _ him blush. 

Again. 

“I said I am coming to love you, yes.” 

If your stomach wasn’t already in knots and flip flopping about, then it sure as hell was now. Your mind hadn’t made that part up. He had actually said it. Like a suffocating fish, as you had done only a few moments prior, you opened your mouth to say something, only to fall silent. 

“I suppose I should clarify.” He paused. “What part _ exactly _are you confused about?” A question, then. “If you try and actually ask the right questions, some of the answers may come naturally for you.” And finally, an observation.

You stared at him like he had three heads. That wasn’t clarification at all. You were even _ more _ confused than before. 

Your discomfort skyrocketed in that moment, as you were forced to question yourself. Suddenly, you didn’t want to do that. You nearly threw your blanket off right then and there because it was one-hundred percent easier not to do something than do it, especially when you were supposed to do it. You knew you needed to confront them, but it scared the shit out of you. It was difficult for you to talk about it. 

Unlike Alastor, who spoke about it so freely with you. Because apparently he was a wise guy now.

Your frustration grew, mostly in yourself. And then him, as well. Because suddenly he was so wise when not even a few months ago he hadn’t a clue what the fuck he was doing, either. “I _ can’t. _ I don’t know what to ask because…” you rubbed your hands over your face for a moment. “Because I don’t know, Alastor, I don’t _ know! _” 

Was it obvious that you didn’t know? That you were frustrated? You thought you got it across rather well.

You let out a frustrated huff, and then like the absolute child you were, crossed your arms. When you glanced over to him, you saw that his eyebrow was raised at your display. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, before he cleared his throat, and you watched all of this in silence. You were angry at yourself for not being able to figure this out on your own. Angry at yourself for feeling these things.

This was literally ripping you apart.

You needed some exotic booze, or something. You didn’t drink, especially after that last… episode, but for this? You unraveled your arms and let them fall to your sides, leaning your head back against the headrest of the couch. For this, you were practically willing to do anything just to get him off of your mind. He was all you thought about, lately.

And dare you say it, a lot of those thoughts were _ pleasant. _

“Alright, well, for starters… What brought you up here in the first place?” His voice sounded muffled against the majority of your thoughts.

“I don’t know.” You deadpanned, sounding a lot more grumpy than you intended. You decided not to comment on it. You would just make matters worse if you did. Out of your peripherals, you saw him rub his hand over his face. 

“Are you _ trying _ to be obstinate?” He questioned, but it wasn’t much of a question more than an observation. Because you very much were, and you were well aware. “I am trying to help you, darling. You came to _ me, _remember?” 

“I-“ You rose your head and squinted. Well, if you knew you were being ‘obstinate’, why not dive in head first? “Maybe I did, so what?” 

When he let out an aggrieved sigh, you let out a pissy huff in response. Yeah, didn’t feel too good being kept up by you, did it? Welcome to the club, buster, you aren’t getting out of this one easy. 

“I am much too tired. If you’re going to continue to be like this, then I am off to bed.” The blankets were moved aside as he stood up, and you remained motionless all the while, staring in both frustration and confusion. He didn’t get to just sleep when _ you _didn’t get to sleep. You watched as he settled himself into his blankets and mass of pillows.

He looked so comfortable. So peaceful. How dare he. 

Pushing yourself off of the couch, you stormed to the other side of the bed, crawled on top of it, and then promptly fell on top of him. There was a loud _ ‘oof’ _ , and you felt him turn underneath you. “You don’t get to sleep when _ I _can’t sleep.” You huffed. That was absolutely not going to happen. Ever. He didn’t get to look so pleasant when you were feeling this way. He didn’t get to just brush you off. 

You felt his eyes on you once more, tired (understandably), but slightly amused at your antics. There was movement beneath you, and you found yourself being readjusted into a more comfortable position. 

“Of course,” he murmured. His voice was softer than you had ever heard it. “How can I help you with this… absurd problem of yours,” he squinted, “that you refuse to explain?” 

Somehow, somewhere in your mind, it had only clicked where exactly you were when you felt his breath fan across your face. Instantly, your own skin felt warm and uncomfortable. You were blushing, Oh my god, you were on top of him. What the fuck? What were you doing? 

You let out an exasperated breath, entirely out of your element and unsure of how to do… _ this. _Express feelings. You could try rambling, yes, rambling sometimes worked? Maybe. You just hoped it wouldn’t dig you into a deeper grave.

“I’m so stupid.” You whispered in a rushed tone, attempting to get off of him by pushing on his chest. “This is so stupid. I have these stupid feelings and I don’t want to feel them, because they’re so stupid, I—” You were cut off by the feeling of his hands on your shoulders, calloused even more so now that he was without his gloves. 

“First,” he interrupted. You closed your mouth and stared down at him with wide eyes. “You can try to stop panicking. I’ll have you know that there is very little I will actually do to try to stop… whatever it is that is happening.” He closed his eyes for a moment: “I vow not to bite, lick, or harm any part of your being to the best of my ability.” 

He peeked a singular eye open, the soft glow highlighting your features. “...Better?” He inquired, slowly. 

You stared down at him with wide, round eyes. To the best of his ability. You were more than aware that commenting on that would only dig you an ever deeper, darker grave. As much as you wanted to flee from the situation, you knew that if you pushed away these thoughts and feelings, it would just haunt you again; only at a later date. “...Better.” You murmured back, shakily.

Awkwardly, you bent your elbows and lowered your cheek to his chest. In doing so, when you had breathed in deeply in order to attempt to calm the nerves that were wrecking havoc on your poor, muddled mind, you had inhaled his scent. It wasn’t a fancy perfume or anything, it was just… _ him. _You felt your stiff muscles relax, not really noticing such a thing until he brought attention to it.

“May I hold you again?” His voice was low, tired sounding. 

For the briefest of moments, you pondered on whether or not you would be able to bring yourself to walk back down to your room or not. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized you had begun to say yes until the vibration of your throat, brought on by an agreeable hum, resounded from you. 

In the pause between that moment and the next, your eyes had begun to map out the room idly. A swamp. You still couldn’t believe he still had a swamp in his room. The tendrils of mist coiled around the legs of the furniture, the crickets singing a tune, the creaking of the trees, the running of the water. This man had a literal ecosystem in his _ bedroom. _

“I know you find all of this confusing,” His chest reverberated with his words, a strangely soothing sensation. “And I did too.” 

You felt your hair being brushed aside, exposing your neck and shoulders. The toughness from the texture of his palms and the coolness of them that aided in your already heated skin from the embarrassment, made you unravel as you laid half-sprawled across his chest. You found yourself closing your eyes as his thumb rubbed in gentle, slow, smooth strokes. He continued on then with his explanation. 

“I was upset that I didn’t understand the feelings that were stirring underneath my skin, but the more I tried to fight them, the more I hurt you.” He explained, and without even looking at him, you could hear it in his voice that he was very clearly reminiscing on the past. “... Which is not something I’m particularly fond of.” You could say that again. 

“Had I been more open to the experience, perhaps then, this would not be so meddlesome for you.” He finished but no less continued on with his small ministrations to your shoulders. Even with claws that could easily shred open… something, he was surprisingly mindful and gentle. 

He sounded so at peace with his revelation, and you longed to feel that way too. It was so… “Exhausting.” You voiced your thoughts, before realizing you had said it out loud. Ah, that meant you had to explain now. “It’s…” You began again, opening your eyes to look focus on the slow rise and fall of the rest of his chest. You rose and fell with it. “It’s so exhausting,” you muttered against him at last.

There was no point in trying to push it to the back of your mind anymore. “I’m so tired of fighting with myself.” You furrowed your brows. “Of… feeling so _ lost.” _

“Why is it that you continue to fight with yourself then?” He didn’t pause with the ministrations on your back, and you were thankful for that. It ushered you into a state of contentment and relaxation, but Alastor didn’t feel quite the same, apparently.

“Is the possibility of having fond feelings for me so terrible?” There was a slight twinge in his voice that betrayed his nearly everlasting smile, and when you raised your head to look at him, you witnessed the first twinge of pure, uncut guilt burrow deep into the pits of your soul. 

That wasn’t what you meant. 

“No, it’s not—” you tried to save yourself, “It’s not that.” You paused as you attempted to figure out the best words. 

“It’s not that, it’s…” You snapped your jaw shut, furrowing your brows, before you began to look at his expression. Searching. Drowning— er, maybe not drowning. Falling? Yeah. Falling in the feeling of him rubbing your shoulders. 

“It’s just hard to forget, even when…” You hesitated, before letting your forehead fall to his chest, your words muffled against his shirt. “I think I’ve already forgiven you…?” Sheesh, you don’t just say those things and then question yourself. But here you were, and here he was. And now he was sitting up, and you were beginning to slide off of him.

Except, then his arm was around your waist in order to not displace you. “I… Well, this is news to me.” Holy shit, did you just make the big bad Radio Demon _ speechless? _

You weren’t sure why, but the idea sparked a sensation of pride in your heart. Out of all the times he had made you speechless, now you could finally feel the surge of self-importance. 

Still though, it wasn’t much. 

So, as you held onto what little confidence you had, albeit shakily and reminiscent of that of a newborn animal because what the fuck were you doing _ now? _You peeled yourself off of his chest, lifted yourself so your could now look directly at him, and then for the grand ultimatum, you hovered your lips over his. “I know, me too.” You whispered. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Because now it looked like you were uncertain of your decisions, well, you _ were, _but that wasn’t the point! 

The point was, you were trying your best, and in achieving such, your face was close to his— in the danger zone of his own lips. You wondered, gently in your mind, when you would be able to feel them on yours again. You wondered if they would be able to silence your thoughts. 

Your heart had begun to thump wildly in your ribcage, and you barely noticed that you couldn’t tear your eyes off of them until you felt that familiar heat travel across your cheeks.

As it so often did now that you were around him so frequently. 

He broke through the barrier of your thoughts just enough for you to acknowledge the fact that he was _ talking, _but all you saw were his lips moving. “Normally, I am not one to question such... miracles, but, why? I would understand if it took me years to undo the wrongs I had done to you in the beginning—”

“Shut up.” You whispered, unsure and uncaring if he had actually caught onto it before you closed the distance and perhaps with a bit more vigor than you had originally meant, you crushed your lips onto his. 

There was a startled noise, muffled from the sudden intimacy. His hands had lifted off of you in shock, before bringing them back down to your shoulders.

And then in an all too Alastor fashion, because he was never one to let sleeping dogs lie, he attempted to talk. “Darling—“ The moment he parted his lips, you parted your own to mold better with his, and perhaps even to muffle his words more. “—I thought you wanted to talk about this.” 

The second time he dared to open his mouth, you pressed your teeth down onto his bottom lip. Another alarmed sound left him. It was just hard enough not to be painful, but to tell him to just… be quiet. 

At long last, you felt a heavy sigh escape his nose as it brushed along your cheek, as if he had huffed out in minor frustration. 

But before you could pull away and ask if it had been alright, because _ fuck, _you hadn’t asked and kinda just… dove in, you felt his arm slide down your back and wrap around your middle. When he opened his mouth, words didn’t escape them, but you felt the pressure of his own lips respond to your now more uncertain movements. 

Being kissed back immediately made your boldness fly out the window. 

You leaned back just slightly, a soft panting, breath wavering, but you were close enough for him to feel such. Why did it feel good to kiss him? Why did it feel _ right? _You needed to investigate further— you were now a detective. It was already set in stone, there wasn’t anything anyone could do to change that, unless, of course, he pushed you away. But he didn’t. And you found yourself relaxing completely within his clutches. 

“Is this how—“ He started, only to be cut off again by you swooping down to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. At the moment, you weren’t thinking, you were just… trying to figure out why kissing him felt so damn _ good _. 

The moment you pulled away, he tried again. “You normally feel with me?” 

But alas, it wouldn’t work as you did it again. 

“Frustrated—” Again.

“And perhaps—” Another.

“A bit charmed—” Once more.

“Because I don’t remember feeling quite so flustered before.” His face now harbored a blush, and you found yourself dipping down once again to gently brush your lips against his cheek to note that yes, you saw him blushing, before dragging them down to reconnect with his lips. This time, you held them there, your motions soft and slow. 

You felt a rumble beneath you as a groan reverberated through his. You felt him cup your left cheek, the calloused coolness a good relief from the warmth that had already begun to find its place upon your own face. You sought more of the coolness, and you found yourself leaning into his grip, a silly smile falling upon your own lips, even as you kissed him.

“You are going to be the end of me, you _ perfect creature.” _ His words made a soft breath of amusement flutter from you, and in synonymous to his, you brought your own hand up to fall to his own cheek, the pad of your thumb caressing it in uncertainty and… affection. That was it.

Affection.

Something clicked in your brain, and when he opened his mouth to speak _ again, _in your surprise of the recent development, you slowed your kisses. 

“Please tell me you’ve at least figured _ something _out.” His words were judged by your lips, slightly rushed. Why was he talking so much? He was a chatterbox, but this was just… You sighed out of your nose, before you hummed a small ‘mhm’ against his lips. You were growing frustrated with how much he was talking, that was for sure. 

“But darling!” Jesus Christ. “Should I go back to the drawing board?” He was now rambling the first thought across his mind, you were sure of it. You couldn’t believe he was _ still _talking, but to get your point across that he wouldn’t have to go to the drawing board, you picked yourself up and straddled his abdomen in a final declaration of an answer. He wasn’t going anywhere. 

Later? Sure. Whatever. But now? You were finally getting some answers. An odd way to get answers, sure, but it was working. 

“Perhaps, darling, I—“ He cut himself off this time, and the moment you felt his hands start to shake around you, you finally realized the cause of it all. The reason why he wouldn’t stop talking and just, enjoy the moment that he had. 

He was nervous.

You leaned back and instead brought your lips to his cheek. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, closing your eyes and laying small kisses over the exact spot your hand had been. You were just as nervous as him, but your confusion rivaled the anxiety. If he wanted to talk, you could talk. 

“Isn’t this… part of the courtship thing or whatever?” You felt him still beneath you, but nevertheless you continued. You kissed his cheek once more, your words escaping parted lips that only aided in the gentle kisses you trailed across his face. “Isn’t this… what you want?” You pulled away finally, and looked down at him with knitted eyebrows. 

His eyes avoided yours, and you realized he had begun to look at the swamp in search for a semblance of comfort, just like you had done prior. Maybe the swamp did have some sort of calming properties. You remained quiet, tickled at the fact that _now _he didn’t talk when you were giving him the chance. 

At last, he opened his mouth. “I have no experience in this field whatsoever.” His voice was softer. “I’m… I’m nervous.” He admitted, and even the radio silence that clung to him was silenced somehow, for only the sound of your breaths, the crickets, and the cattails swaying, were the only ambience. 

Your own gaze had turned uncharacteristically soft. “And you think that I do?” You giggled softly.

“Well, you certainly have more gusto in the matter.” His smile was easy, but his eyes betrayed him, even as his hands gently traced your sides. Nervous. He had just told you that he was nervous, a blatant sign of weakness that he would have never revealed otherwise, you were were pleasantly surprised.

“You just talk too much.” You murmured softly, playfully. Teasing.

“That is one _ hell _ of a way to shut me up, darling.” He looked back up to you again.

“It worked.” You pointed out. Sorta. He didn’t really ever stop talking. 

“Yes… do it again.” His eyes had grown lidded then, and you paused, caught off guard, for now that you had eased yourself off of the high of kissing him, you had been more than comfortable with just talking to him. Your eyes wide as your breath got caught in your throat. You hadn’t been expecting _ that. _

“You… want me to do it again?” You questioned softly, repeating his words. You lowered your lips to hover over his once again, inquisitively. You looked up at him through your lashes, his own red sclera barely visible as he began to close his own eyes. His lips parted as he spoke once more:

“I should like to have all of you, in time especially, but for now, I can settle for your lips.” 

So poetic all the time. You took that as a yes. Your heart skipped a beat.

You pressed your lips against his again, leaning over him from your positioning. Your heart felt so heavy, your chest warm, your face so unbearably hot, and your stomach bursting with butterflies. They parted to better fill the gaps of his; a soft sound escaping your throat in doing so. You weren’t sure what the sound was, but it was _ something. _

His hands had somehow lost their danger as they traced over you, smoothing over the curves and softness, tracing the planes of your back. His mouth had become pliant against yours, moving just so, gentle and cautious in his movements. You felt so warm and numb and _ giddy_.

You needed to get balanced.

You needed to figure out how to come to terms with what this was. Affection? Affection, yes. You had figured it out, but you were shy when it came to emotions. It was easier to physically show it for you. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing and mess it all up. You didn’t want to be betrayed again. Your nose brushed against his, your kisses soft.

You practically felt his heart thumping beneath, just as his knees had drawn up so that his thighs could hold your sides. There was a mass of blankets between you both. Everything was just so... warm and cozy— things you had never really associated with him before now. 

You had more gusto, for sure, but you were also extremely lost on where to put your hands, on how to move your lips the correct way, what to do with the rest of your body. What to touch. What not to touch. It was all very confusing in the grand scheme of things, but you were beginning to understand, slowly.

You had begun to understand that his kisses were sweet, pliant, meaningful, while yours were curious, uncertain, but just as significant... if not a bit hesitant. God forbid that this was how you continued to come to terms with what you were feeling. How you would accept it. You were far too stubborn, too _ afraid _ to admit it all in one night, but you knew you would eventually have to lest it eat you up. 

But first you had to learn how to accept it yourself. And that would take time. Time was all that could be done in a situation as delicate, intimate, and wonderful as this. You tuned into the feeling of his hands on your sides, the feeling of his breath against your face, the sounds of crickets, the soft rippling ambience of the water from the swamp. It ushered you into a state of serenity… and calmness, even with how nervous you were right now.

You didn’t want to mess up.

Softly, uncertainly, you leaned back just for a moment to leave a trail of kisses to his forehead. Your right hand reached up to gently brush his hair to the side. When you did, in fact, reach his forehead, you let your lips remain there for a long moment, your eyes closing as you sighed against his flesh. 

The feeling of his claws on you made a chill crawl up your spine. It wasn’t easy to have forgiven him for his past actions, and it was even more difficult to forget them. But you did your best to relax against his actions. 

“Thank you, little one.” He murmured, and you felt a tightness around your waist as he completed an action was similar to a hug that anything else. Thank you? For what? You decided to say fuck it and just accept it as it was. You blinked in surprise as you tried your best to reign in the overstimulation of the situation. You could only do so much.

Your breath was heavy, uneven, before you laid your forehead on his. “...Yes.” You whispered, remaining silent for a long moment, attempting to take in deep, steady breaths. 

The room was so much warmer than you originally knew. “Yes, I feel fondness for you.” Your words were breathless, and the moment you had opened your eyes, you were met with one of the most gentle, delicate, and completely uncharacteristic looks from him you had ever seen. 

You felt his arms completely envelop you as you were suddenly both being smoothly rolled over. You were turned away from him, but one of his arms had drapers over your waist. Well, guess that answered your question for how you were getting back down to your room. You weren’t.

His pillows were so soft, his blankets silk, reminding you of the texture of his suit that he... wasn’t wearing. It was odd to see him out of it and in something more fitting of sleep. The weight of his arm on your waist made you try to look at him out of your peripherals, but with him behind you, it was hardly something that was possible. 

So you settled on looking at his hand. 

You brought one of your arms underneath the pillow, and the other to attempt to grasp his own hand. Your eyes felt a lot heavier than you remembered. There was a soft snap, and then there were soft, silky blankets covering your form. 

“Good night.” A murmur to your ear.

You passed out soon after releasing a small hum that you had heard him.

Your dreams were a lot sweeter and calm than you were used to, there wasn’t an overhanging sense of dread in them. No monster chasing after you. No red eyes in the corners of your room. It was gentle and lulling and, for the first time in a long time, you wouldn’t have minded if you remained unconscious for all eternity.

Of course, that wasn’t the case, and, despite the numerous sweet dreams that cascaded your mind, when you _ did _ regain consciousness, the first thing you noticed were the trees and swamp. And then you noticed that you weren’t in _ your room. _Your eyebrows were knitted in deep confusion, sparked from your grogginess.

And then you noticed that you weren’t just laying on a bed, but _ someone. _Your head was nestled upon some pillow, but your arm was draped over… over Alastor. You had to hold yourself from jumping up right then and there, but you did stiffen against him. You could feel his wide eyes on you. 

But your sleepy gaze was trained on a cart that was next to the bed, filled with breakfast foods. Which had to have meant that he had gotten up at some point and then decided to crawl back in bed next to you. He was awake still, which meant he had also been _ watching _you sleep. 

“Good morning!” His voice was a bit groggy from lack of use, but still a bit too loud for such an hour. You winced at the volume.

You wondered if you could get away with just acting like you were asleep still, but with the way your heart rate had picked up from both waking up and realizing where you were, and the wince that had betrayed you, you knew that the possibilities of succeeding were slim. 

The scent of breakfast immediately made your mouth water, and with a soft breath, you glanced up at him. “Were you…” You trailed off, eyes searching in curiosity and suspicion. “_ Watching _ me sleep?” 

His eyes were crinkled happily. “Of course! You look so adorable with your face squished into my pillows!” He chirped. “You told me I can’t come in your room anymore, so I had to get all my observations in while I could!”

You made a face. “You watched me when I slept.” 

He nodded cutely in response.

“This… isn’t the first time?” You knitted your brows.. 

His eyes drifted away from yours, guiltily. “...If I were to tell you no… I have the _ strangest _ feeling that you would be upset with me.”

You stared at him for the longest time in a state of bewilderment. You weren’t sure how to feel about him literally watching you sleep—this time had been fine, you guessed, because he hadn’t necessarily been watching (you hoped) but cuddling. With you. He was cuddling with you.

Oh SHIT, he was cuddling with you!

“I have only watched you sleep when you were elsewhere other than your room…” He tried to explain. “Though I have been tempted in the past to watch you from your closet, but… I was able to refrain.” He sounded proud of himself. 

You inhaled a great amount of air, puffed your cheeks out, and then released an exhale. “I’m…” Speechless. You were speechless, but not only because of his words, but because you were also remembering everything that had happened the longer your grogginess faded away, the longer you were awake.

“I have been trying to be good for you. And it has been _ so _ exhausting.” He flopped backwards dramatically, spreading out his arms, and resting one across your waist in the process. “You require so much space, but my fascination calls me in too close, to have to constantly battle my inquisitive nature, it has all been so tiring!” He placed the back of his hand on his forehead. 

You stared up at him before looking down at his arm that was across your waist. Reaching down with your own hand, you hesitated, before threading your fingers through the spaces of his own. “I’m afraid to ask what you would do if I told you to be yourself.” Bad idea.

“We have already seen the painful repercussions of what happens when I do not have limits… I much prefer you to be happy with me, rather than actively despising me.” He let out a long sigh, “So I suppose it isn’t too bad.” He rolled onto his side and winked at you. 

You let out an amused breath, a light dusting covering your cheeks before you shook your head. “I don’t hate you.” You confessed, and it surprised you more than what you were expecting it to. You didn’t hate him. You felt fondness for him, and it wasn’t just a once-in-a-lifetime feeling for one night only. You… _ still _ felt it. 

You repositioned yourself to sit up half-way, your one arm holding you up before you sat up further into a criss-cross applesauce position. You looked back at him.

“Well, this is wonderful news. Truly, I am thrilled to hear it.” He scooted closer to you, and curled downwards, so he could rest his head in your lap. Your eyebrows raised in both confusion and surprise as he did so. “I haven’t felt such joy in many years.” His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were pressed to your thighs, his face relaxed in bliss. 

Your expression relaxed after a moment, and you readjusted yourself to better suit his head’s sudden weight on your lap. It was weird to see Alastor, the literal Radio Demon, in such a vulnerable position. He looked so peaceful.

“Well, it’s definitely news.” You joked with a small laugh. “I’m… glad you’re happy.” Because a not happy Alastor was not something you wanted to experience. Ever. You had heard stories; and those stories declared warning to those who dared to cross him. 

You brought a hand up to brush his hair out of his face before returning to your original position, your fingertips dancing across his head and through the thick tresses of his hair. Your nails combing it back, and for the first time, you saw his full face; unhidden from the mop of fluffy, vibrant hair upon his head. 

“I believe I am coming to understand why there are so many that search for such a companion for so long… this is quite lovely. You, my dear, you are so lovely.” His eyes finally opened, and there was an intensity to them, more than their usual glow, as he looked at you, his smile soft around the edges. 

A nervous but gentle smile was offered back to him, small, but there. It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and now said weight was just in your lap. 

Gently, your fingertips began to trail up and comb through his hair. “I’m not sure what you find so lovely about me.” You admitted, training your eyes on the way your movements fluffed his hair. “Is it just me, or like, are you _ attracted?” _You furrowed your brows. You were curious in your words, they were gentle, just like your touches. 

Your eyes looked down to him again after a moment. “Do you even know?”

He nuzzled his face into your lap again. “Such insecurities are misplaced in you darling, any demon would be able to see just how beautiful you are, and as for attraction, I believe I have made such inclinations abundantly clear. You are a masterpiece, never doubt that.” His eyes slipped shut once more as he lost himself in your ministrations. 

You stayed silent, the softest of smiles toying upon your lips. He was sweet, you would give him that. Now in the position you were in, you ran your fingers up to poke at the small little antlers. Inquisitively, you let your hand raise and poke at the ends. They were sharp, not like how dull baby antlers would be. Interesting. _ Very, very interesting. _

Your curiosity truly knew no bounds when ignited 

A moment after, you returned to said ministrations, a lot closer to his ears now. Your attention was pinpointed on them completely at this point. Despite remaining quiet, enjoying the sound of crickets and other ambience of his room, the silent question still remained when you stopped at the base of them.

You were still as he moved his head, raising your hand slightly as if expecting him to pull away, but when he pressed them into your hand, your smile remained on your lips. Gently, you trailed your fingertips up the base of his ears, the differentiation between the hair and fur intriguing you. It was so soft. You were literally in heaven. 

It was _ so soft. _

Your smile had increased into a silly, toothy one as if you were a child who had gotten a new stuffed animal. 

His ears were twitching slightly, but nothing out of the ordinary, as if he were trying to get used to being touched. 

It was strange, at first. There was still hesitance on your part, and you assumed he wouldn’t press you on that matter. He looked too much in his own utopia to give a rat’s ass. You stopped for a moment before continuing. 

They were soft and warm and the cartilage was equally flexible. There were softer, more malleable parts, some places were tougher, some mid-way. But you were growing more confident with your movements, because if he didn’t like it, he would say something, right? 

There was a low groan that rumbled in his throat then, and you slowed your motions immediately as his ears flattened against his head, turning down as he pressed the whole of his face into your thigh, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know my ears were so sensitive.” he muttered, the sound muffled by your thigh.

“Do you want me to stop?” You looked down at him. 

“I can’t decide…” He responded, and then a singular eye opened to look up at you. “Would you like to have breakfast with me, in my swamp?” 

You pulled your hands away then, making the decision for him, just as you ruffled his hair playfully. “I’m not eating in a _ swamp _, Al.” 

“But darling! I have a lovely table and chairs set up, right by a willow tree, and it’s in bloom right now! Seasons don’t matter when you’re filled with magic!” He was beaming up at you, grin wide and almost threatening, but his eyes were just so happy. Like a puppy. A threatening puppy.

But… You really didn’t want to eat in a swamp. You would get all wet and stuff... gross. A sigh fell from your lips as you brought your hand to his cheek, your thumb rubbing beneath his eye just like he had done to you before. “I’m not dressed for a swamp.”

“Then we shall dine in bed!” He pushed himself up.

“That sounds better.” You nodded and you watched as he snapped his fingers. 

Dishes started to float and surround you both, a cloth spreading out over his bed in picnic form. Like some strange ‘be our guest’ scenario, but at least nothing was talking. Only the man conducting. “I hope you’re hungry, darling.”

The dishes and all the food: bagels, waffles, eggs, anything you could have ever wanted. You reached over for a bagel without hesitation. “Did you make all of this?” You brought the bagel to your lips and took a bite. Then, upon swallowing: “Were you a cook?” And a Radio Host? And a murderer, cannibal, hunter. Damn, this man was BUSY.

“My mother ran a restaurant, I often helped out in the kitchen.” He explained shortly, building himself a plate. 

So that was a yes, then. You took another bite of the bagel, and then another. You were hungry and you were now able to admit to yourself that his food was amazing. _ He _ knew it was, you were certain, so you didn’t comment on it. “I wish I knew what my parents did.” You murmured, before clearing your throat. 

“Perhaps in time, parts of your memory will come back naturally.” he suggested, buttering up a croissant.

You nodded silently, hopeful, but uncertain. You finished the bagel in silence, your mind drifting to the craziness of the situation you were in. You were eating breakfast in bed, with the Radio Demon, who you had admitted to not hating, who you had slept with (not in that way), and cuddled with.

Everything was going so quick now, and you weren’t sure what started it all.

“Has your appetite always been so stunted?” Alastor had noticed that you didn’t really eat much. It was another reason he often tried to feed you. You didn’t take care of yourself very well when it came to feeding your body. 

“I mean.” You started, reaching over after your bagel and grabbing a plate. The plates just so happened to be on his side of the bed, so when you leaned over him, you batted your eyelashes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grabbing the plate, you grabbed a croissant, some eggs, bacon, and a waffle.

“You don’t eat much… and I worry about you because of that.” He looked lost in thought, dreadfully worn over concern of a memory that he did not share with you. 

“Al,” You interrupted his silence as you set down the plate for a moment. “I’m okay,” you said softly, motioning toward yourself. “See? I’m fine.” If you had known what was going on in his mind, you would have been able to ease his worries. But you didn’t.

He looked over to you. “...If you ever want me to make something for you, please don’t hesitate. I would be honored.” 

Your eyes softened. So it was about you not eating much. Husk barely ate, and he was fine. Well, he was a drunkard, but. Still. Repositioning yourself so you could scoot closer to him, you offered him a small smile before shaking your head. “I’m _ dead.” _You didn’t understand why you needed to eat if you were dead.

“As am I, but you still require sustenance for this form, we are more closely related to the _ undead _, darling.” 

“Like zombies?” Your eyes widened. You were a _ zombie? _

“More akin to vampires, well, actually—“ He paused. “I am not exactly sure on the details, but these are still physical forms that require maintenance.” He leaned closer. “Meaning, you should probably eat more than a granola bar during the day…” He eyed you knowingly. 

You opened your mouth. “How did—“ 

“I do the grocery shopping around here too, you know. Besides! I know most things that happen under this roof… though, I _ have _ been trying to respect the boundaries you’ve put in place.” He took a thoughtful bite of eggs. 

You looked at the food, before reaching over and cutting up the waffle before bringing it to your lips. You stared at him the entire time as if to say ‘see? I’m eating.’

He chuckled at your antics, and continued to eat his breakfast in silence. 

By the time the two of you were done, you fell back onto the bed in a heap of a sigh. “I can’t eat anything anymore. Ever again.” You were so full.

“...I’ll see you at lunch, darling.” He snapped his fingers, clearing the bed of dishes and flatware, while also snapping into his suit at the same time. “It’s time for work!”

“Nooo…” You groaned childishly.

“Yes! I believe we have to see Charlie!” He booped you on the nose. 

You sat up then. “We?”

“Yes, I’ve not been going to those silly management meetings, but now that you seem to have gotten a promotion, I think I shall start.” He nodded once, already set on the idea that he was coming with you. 

“But it’s not a meeting, it’s… Well,” You thought long and hard.

“I can assist, I did tell our demon belle that I would help run her hotel, and I intend to keep my word.”

You blinked at him owlishly. You knew Vaggie wouldn’t be too happy about this.

He rose from the bed and straightened out his suit jacket. 

“Okay.” You couldn’t really tell him ‘no’ anyways. 

Well, you could, but he probably wouldn’t listen. You learned the hard way. You got off of the bed, and made your way towards the door before realizing that you were still in your pajamas. “Ah- I should probably go get changed. I wasn’t…” You rubbed the back of your neck.

“I could take care of that for you, if you wish.” he offered, bending at the waist to look you in the eye with a sly grin.

“...How?” You squinted suspiciously.

“A snap of my fingers, darling, that’s all!”

Yeah, like _ that _sounded good. He would probably dress you to his liking if given the chance. Not that he didn’t have good style, just... “I think I’m going to just go get changed. I’ll see you down there, okay?” 

“...Fair enough. I’ll see you then, mon chère.” And he was out the door, and so were you.


	42. Like a Video Game

The light of the morning that hit your eyes the moment you stepped into the hallway, filtering through the windows at the end of the halls, caused your pupils to dilate. You blinked a few times, shook your head, and then continued on once you were sure that you had gotten used to the lighting change. Through the visible strands of light that filtered through the thin red curtains, the smallest particles of dust had begun to make its presence known.

A place that Niffty had undoubtedly missed in her last tryst down this long, narrow corridor. 

During the early hours, the skies gained a vibrant hue similar to that of dusk on Earth. Pink was such a fantastical color, and one so easily missed out on. Then again, a lot of the time in a world of red, _ any _color was pretty to you. 

Of course, under the pentagram, nothing visually appealing did stay for very long, and within a few hours the blood red skies would return to symbolize that you had yet another day in Hell to endure. But it had also begun to feel less like a symbolic hell now and just more of a day-to-day struggle. Your eyes began to trail across the walls, your hand raising to soon glide across it gently as well. 

The floorboards reminded you with each step you took that, while you knew the hotel was stable and wouldn’t fall apart anytime soon, the scenic views and sounds weren’t… much to gawk at. The texture of the wall as you ran your fingertips across it were rough instead of the smoothness you had come to know in the more lively area of the hotel. 

Unlike the notable gallery of paintings found on the floor below, only a plethora of empty frames littered the walls, and even those had been dusted down to their bare minimums. 

There was no doubt that this part of said hotel was more run down than the rest. You weren’t entirely sure why Alastor proposed the notion for himself to stay above it all when he could have a perfectly good, swamp-like room down on the floor that you were all on. You guessed it was some sort of weird power move. It made him feel more _ important. _

But alas, if he insisted on something, it was _ very _apparent that he would never give up on achieving it.

The hotel itself had the possibility of being aged by innumerable eons, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had come to discover that it was being held up by mere magic alone. You and Niffty had done your part to make it look as appealing as you possibly could, but even still, sometimes you would find a stray skeleton or two in a closet. 

Literally. 

There were a lot of rooms, a lot of closets, and a whole lot of places you hadn’t managed to explore completely when you had a job as a cleaner. But your job as a cleaner didn’t exist anymore. It wasn’t your job to ponder on how to make the hotel as a building better, but now it just so happened to be on how you could help the hotel grow, instead. 

You didn’t have to figure out where to put those stray skeletons, you didn’t have to worry about straining your muscles anymore. It had gotten easier as time went on, sure, but it got boring doing the same thing over and over again.

You just didn’t have the same _ spunk _as Niffty did when it came to cleaning. 

What you did have spunk with, apparently, was kissing Alastor and that was… just a whole cascade of emotions and thoughts you didn’t want to get into this early in the morning. So many things had happened. So. Many. Things. You weren’t even sure where to start, how to explain it to yourself in a manner that would make the most sense to you. And yet, here you were, tripping yourself up over feelings that you should not feel, except you _ were. _

It would have been so easy to just turn your mind off if you had the option to. Your existence would be a whole lot smoother. This transition… or _ whatever _ it was, was difficult for you. From despising to beginning to feel fondness for him; everything was all over the place and you weren’t entirely certain on how to lay things out one by one so you could accurately begin to come to terms with it. 

The one thing you had completely accepted, was that you didn’t hate him. Everything else, you hoped, would come in time. 

Needless to say, you reached your room a lot quicker than you originally thought you would. Of course, it was mostly because of the fact that your room was just below his. Opening that mahogany door that mirrored every single room in the hallway, you let yourself in. Everything looked the same. Of course it did. With a sigh, you strolled over to your closet, pulled it open and began to sort through it.

At least this mess was a literal one you could actually clean up. 

You got changed in your new snazzy, comfortable clothing. What could you say? You were a sucker for comfort. It was a pair of sweatpants along with a loose-fitting hoodie. If you were going to work on arts and crafts, you bet your ass you were going to do it in comfort! You didn’t think anyone cared either way, but you were still pretty darn excited to have some new clothes. 

But you still had things to do, and you couldn’t stay here flaunting about your new, rather lackluster clothing for the rest of the day. 

Clicking your tongue, you walked back out the way you came. Charlie and Vaggie’s room was just around the corner, and now that you were headed there, all of your thoughts you had refused to indulge came forward. You had… kissed Alastor multiple times. You had… told him that you didn’t hate him and that you actually _ forgave _him. You told him that you felt fondness for him. You had gone to him for help, you had slept in his own damn bed. 

You woke up with him, _ curled _ around him. He had made the two of you breakfast, and then he had come back into the bed and cuddled with you. You weren’t sure why, but the thought of the big bad Radio Demon cuddling was just laughable to you. But he had, and suddenly you found yourself endeared at the thought. Sure, he had stared at you the entire time like a creep, but he _ was _weird. He was Alastor!

As much as the thought of sharing your problems of him _ with _him frightened you, it hadn’t been all that bad when you did. It had been a lot… warmer than you had anticipated, and when you were there, it was as if all your troubles numbed. Perhaps that’s one reason why you shouldn’t have been as anxious as you were in anticipation for knowing that Alastor would be there when you got to the room. Because when he was, things turned out okay.

Y’know, unless he was the one that started the trouble. 

When you turned the corner of the corridor, you nearly tripped over your own shoelace. Thankfully, your hands flew out instinctively and you caught yourself before you had a crash landing. Though, in such a feat, your heart had nearly jumped right out of your chest. Your eyes flickered to your shoes when you regained your posture. Somewhere along the way, your laces had become untied.

Or maybe you had just forgotten to tie them. You had the tendency to do things like that. 

You kneeled down and tied them again. 

Well, at the very least, the action had gotten you out of your thoughts before you could sink deeper into them. Perhaps nearly tripping had been a good thing after all. You probably also would have walked straight past your destination as well. When you brought your hand to your knee to push you back up, the familiar door of Charlie and Vaggie’s room caught your eye. 

You couldn’t believe you were saying this, but if you hadn’t tripped, you would’ve been late. You squinted. 

With a sigh, you lifted your hand and formed it into a fist. Just as you were about to knock on it though, the hinges creaked as the door flew open in a flourish, and you were immediately greeted with a burst of color— a flair that only the Radio Demon could master. 

“Welcome to the meeting darling, we’ve all been waiting for you!” An enthusiastic, chipper voice greeted you. 

You flinched back in surprise and instinctively closed your eyes. After a moment, you peeked an eye open and saw a stream of colorful confetti falling around you. A lot of it fell on the floor, but some managed to stick to you. From where you stood, you saw Vaggie and Charlie looking at the two of you with drastically different expressions. Charlie seemed touched by Alastor’s enthusiasm, while Vaggie looked like she had seen better days. You didn’t blame her. 

Slowly, you reached a hand up, picked a piece of confetti out of your hair and then placed it on his jacket like you would with a loose piece of tape. “Extra.” You stated simply with an amused roll of your eyes, paired with a small smile. You wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had no idea what you had just meant, but you didn’t really care.

There were things you would never understand of his generation, either. Twenty-first century, bitches. Woot, woot! 

Of course, your comment was ignored. “We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival!” Alastor chimed, looking down at his left side then. “Chester—“ His shadow took form immediately. “—Is positively _ thrilled _ to have you near!” Said shadow waved to you, and you made a silent observation that that large, off-putting grin shouldn't have been so endearing. Perhaps you were finally just losing your mind. 

It was a scarier, darker Alastor. 

Did that mean you found Alastor cute?

God damn it. 

The shadow retreated back into Alastor the moment you took in a heavy inhale and brushed past him to step foot into the room. The sight of innumerable baskets of fruits, a centerpiece of Hellshy kisses, muffins, and an assortment of other goods awaited you as well, it seemed. 

All were situated on a generic meeting table that had not been there the last time you had been in here. You raised an eyebrow, about to open your mouth to question it before you met Charlie’s excited gaze. You closed your mouth and looked at her curiously. 

“I just grabbed what I could! Vaggie, we really need to go to the grocery store after this. This was…” She looked towards the food. “Everything.” A guilty look crossed her face upon looking at it all. 

The sensation of static told you who was going to speak next. 

“I also thought we could use some… _ fruitful _ inspiration.” A laugh track, no doubt pulled from some early twentieth century sitcom, resounded throughout the room. He still never told you how he did that. Did he just have a playlist hardwired into his demonic form? Would it really be that far from the spectrum of possibility? Or perhaps, because he was the Radio Demon, he had some ways to mess with the _ radio _waves. 

A loud ‘ugh’ fell from Vaggie, and you had never related to a person more in that moment. 

Moving towards the desk, you tossed a curious glance towards Vaggie and, by her stare alone, you knew that Alastor had been the one to place a literal meeting desk in the middle of their bedroom. Charlie was ecstatic, because now they could put everything together without sitting on the floor. 

Vaggie was less than thrilled, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t convenient, because it was. It just so happened to have bundles of baskets and treats on them, leaving little room for actual work.

Slowly, you picked up your feet, pulled out a chair, and sat down on it. “Sooo… the flyers?” You were still full from the breakfast, so you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the food despite how heavenly it smelled. 

“Yes!” Charlie started, plopping down in a seat that had been conveniently summoned around the large oak table. 

“We’ve got all the flyers done. I kept working on them on and off yesterday.” She continued. Vaggie held back a small smile, because the flyers that Charlie had made with no supervision had plenty of glitter on them. Charlie really liked glitter. “I’m just not so sure where we should put them…. You know to be most effective!” She gave a stern nod, even though you could still see bits of glitter in her hair. 

There was a light humming behind you. You could feel Alastor’s eyes on you the entire time, but he seemed to be at peace with himself just by being a normal nuisance. You could also feel his looming presence. You rolled your shoulders as if that would get rid of the feeling, to no avail. 

“Um,” You tried to think, leaning back against the cool, leatherback chair. “Well, Charlie’s can go in the more… drab places?” To bring attention to it. You looked towards said flyers, and offered a contemplative look towards the overwhelming amounts of glitter that weighed them down. 

“You said there were places I haven’t seen.” You looked at Charlie then, “Is there like, a less… colorful place?”

Charlie cleared her throat nervously. “Well, not exactly. Actually, one of the reasons why I put so much glitter on this was that it could look... natural,” You made a face. It was far from natural. 

“While… also capturing the attention at the same time in an already colorful environment. Uh,” She hesitated. “There’s a place where lost souls gather called Wonderland. It’s also a spawning point for demons.” 

A record scratch resounded behind you, successfully interrupting the static of the Radio Demon. 

You stared owlishly. “Like Alice in Wonderland?” You questioned.

“Very far from it, darling.” Alastor finally placed himself in a seat next to you, across from Vaggie. “If those flyers are to be put up there, I shall do it. I don’t want you setting _ foot _in that place.” He sneered. Vaggie and Charlie looked surprised at the fact that he was actually sitting down.

Your face had twisted up in confusion, curiosity, and surprise. “So…” You blinked. “Hollywood just... stole the idea, then?” 

Before Vaggie could answer, Alastor continued to explain.

“The wayward souls that have gathered there have lost all sense of self.” His eyes glossed over the sheets of glitter. “They have been there since the dawn of time. Without _ focus!” _He pinched his fingers together to accentuate the meaning. 

“Their minds have become addled; monstrous creatures indeed. They do not resemble the demons you see before you darling, their forms have lost most of their physical self, leaving them to be formless shadows. Sinister beings, unlike Chester here.” He pointed to Chester who remained motionless. 

At some point, Chester had returned to being a physical embodiment of… something. There was an easiness that radiated off of it though, something that ensured you that it was of no harm. At least, not to those in the room.

“They are dangerous and not to be trifled with, I assure you. They will devour you in ways more painful than you can imagine.” The silence after his words were heavy, and he looked at all of you as if waiting for applause. 

Vaggie gave Alastor a pointed stare. “Just because you’re accurate, doesn’t mean you’re interesting. And anyways, isn’t that where _ you _spawned?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Yes, which is precisely why I know how to handle myself in such a place.” He straightened his lapels and leaned casually back in his seat. 

Alastor and Charlie eyed you with confusion while Vaggie coughed back a laugh. You were so glad that Vaggie was part of your generation. You cleared your throat. “Do we even want demons from there then?” If it was so dangerous, wouldn’t it be dangerous to house them? 

They didn’t sound like demons to _ you. _They sounded like monsters. 

“Not all demons are lucky enough to have been spawned where you were. Angel was able to find you right away.” Vaggie eyed you. “Some of us had to walk our way.” She added.

“You keep saying spawned.” You leaned forward towards Vaggie. “Like a video game?” Your eyes lit up. It had been so long since you had last played one.

“I mean, more or less.” Her smile was small, but understanding. At least you understood. 

You nodded, leaning back against the chair again. Listen, if you had to look weird to understand the way the world worked, then weird you were going to be. It wasn’t like there weren’t weird demons to begin with. One was literally sitting next to you. “Um,” you started again. Now that you understood, you needed to get back to work. 

“There could be a map on the back? To help them find their way here?” You tilted your head slightly. 

Charlie beamed at you. “That’s a _ great _idea! So fresh demons could theoretically make their way straight here!”

You liked how she said fresh, like they were hot out of the oven. 

God, your mind was really all over the place today. You had an inkling suspicion that it had to do with the individual sitting right next to you. You were having a hard time focusing, and as Charlie and Vaggie were chatting away over how to do the map accurately, you leaned over, grabbed a Hellshy kiss, and leaned half-way towards Alastor.

“Psst.” Your lip twitched with mischievousness, keeping your eyes on Charlie and Vaggie as if you were making sure that they wouldn’t catch you.

“Yes, my dear?” His head swiveled towards you, like his neck was made of rubber. 

You snickered, lower this time, before whispering: “Do you want a kiss?”

“From you?” He asked, not bothering to lower his tone, he didn’t care who heard him. “Always.” His smile turned soft, as did his big stupid eyes. 

He should have known you were up to something when you glanced at him then and offered him the Hellshy kiss like a gift-wrapped present. You were trying so hard not to laugh. You cracked yourself up. You were a riot. His reaction made it so much better, too. The sigh he released was mournful almost, before he took it and placed it in his pocket. 

“Hilarious as usual, little sharkling.” He looked back to you then.

Little Sharkling. You still had to ask about that. What better time than now when your mind was already all over the place? “So uh,” You leaned back, clearing your throat to get their attention. “So… apparently I transformed?”

You had never seen three people visibly stiffen so fast in your life. You let an awkward expression grace your face.

“Yes, it was quite a stunning experience!” Alastor noted, not bothering to expand upon it any further. Big help, thanks Al.

“Uh, yeah, you did. Do you not remember anything, hun?” Vaggie asked, her eyebrows furrowed as the conversation they had previously been on was dropped. 

“Nope.” You bluntly stated, leaning back in your chair, only to anxiously twirl your thumbs on your lap. “What happened?”

“You uh… got all sparky?” Vaggie lamely offered, causing Alastor to scoff. 

“You transformed into an interesting combination of… I believe it was an eel and a shark!” He proudly stated. “Why, your body had glowing markings etched on your skin, oh, so lovely! You had a tail! You even had these precious little fins for ears! It was very impressive, I must say.” Alastor leaned over to bump his shoulder playfully into yours. 

You looked up at him with a weak smile.

“Yeah,” Vaggie sounded entirely unenthused. “She also told us all about your bullshit.” She crossed her arms with a heavy glare. 

You had been curious, but now you felt like it was about to spiral out of control, for one reason or another. Charlie, apparently did too. 

“Okay!” Charlie said suddenly, and you looked between them all. She held up a map with an absolute beaming smile.

Everyone ignored her.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back. You wanted to know what happened.

Alastor also didn’t seem like he was done, and you stopped twiddling your thumbs momentarily as he began to speak again. 

“It’s only natural to be curious about what happened to you, darling. I don’t blame you for asking questions... Or your emotional outburst when you did transform.” He paused, side-glancing Vaggie. Just as quickly, however, he turned his gaze back into you. 

“You were under a great amount of stress, which is the usual reason demons have their first transformation into their true demon forms. Due to where I was spawned, the stress of the discovery and need for protection had mine forced upon me very early.” He explained calmly, his eyes set on you the entire time. 

“I see.” Well, you didn’t see, but you heard. You were so awkward all the time, god damn it. Before you could totally dive into the point of no return which just so happened to be your thoughts, you felt a coolness touch your hand. You glanced down, and saw his own outstretched. You hesitated before lifting your hand and placing it upon his. He curled his fingers in the spaces of yours this time. 

Charlie had gone starry eyed while she looked at you and Alastor. Her original annoyance at being ignored had been ushered away. 

Vaggie, however, was staring at Alastor like he had four heads. She had never thought that the Radio Demon could care about anyone other than himself. It was hard to think that he was grooming you by how he looked at you: the softness. It resembled how she looked at Charlie. 

Uncharacteristic from her point of view, but she supposed that, if you weren’t uncomfortable, that it would be fine. She wondered briefly when she had grown so protective of you, and in that moment she suddenly began to understand why it was so difficult for Charlie to be away from you. 

Because you were _ innocent. _

Still, she narrowed her eyes at Alastor. Like everyone else, you had trapped them in your web of friendship.

Out of view of everyone else, you curled your fingers back in the spaces of his own. You felt your hand being squeezed comfortingly, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter at the motion. You bit your lip shyly and turned to look up at Charlie and Vaggie before the heat that was surely to form upon your cheeks, given the chance, would. 

“So, the map?” You inquired.

“The map!” Charlie exclaimed, slamming down a piece of paper onto the table, as well as knocking a few bagels and select pieces of fruit out of the way. “Here is a rough chart of Hell. I put a big heart where the hotel is!” She squealed. 

Your original apprehension faded away as her contagious happiness filled the room once more. “Okay.” You pulled the map towards you to take a better look at it. “You know, I might actually be able to clean this up a bit with that fancy computer you got.” You glanced up at them once more. 

“Oh, and,” Your eyes flickered down to the map again. “We could probably post the flyers around town and stuff.” Your expression soured for a moment, before you kicked Alastor’s ankle under the table. “Do you guys remember Allie?” You saw him lean back in his seat from your peripherals. No doubt in some lame attempt to hide from your judgemental tone. 

Vaggie and Charlie nodded, urging you to continue. 

“Maybe if _ Alastor _apologizes for scaring her away,” You knew he didn’t apologize, from what he had stated before, but you were certain that the shops around town wouldn’t just let you put up flyers in them randomly. “We can put some in her store.”

“I could… _ Perhaps _ mull things over with her, if that’s what you wish.” Alastor eyed the back of his hand nonchalantly, the one that wasn’t connected to you. 

“You’d _ apologize? _” Vaggie inquired, disbelieving.

“Vaggie! Don’t question it, shhh!” Charlie shushed. 

“As you were saying, darling. Carry on with all of your wonderful ideas!” He sounded genuine.

“Oh.” You said sheepishly, “I don’t have anymore ideas.”

“Then I think we’re done here, unless, of course, our delightful manager has anything else on her mind?” His eyes slid over to Charlie inquisitively. 

“I think that’s all for today.” She clapped her hands. “We can have our next meeting in a couple days if you guys want. I mean, we’ve gotten a lot done!” She beamed at all of you, and picked up a large basket. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take Vaggie grocery shopping!” 

Vaggie released another ‘ugh’.

You tried to unravel your hand from Alastor’s. 

But he wouldn’t let go of your hand just yet.

You squinted as his hand tightened around yours.

“Come on, Al, let go_ .” _ You whispered, trying to tug it away. You had to get up. You had stuff to _ do. _

“Are you trying to hide our love, darling?” His stupid smartass grin was so large and _ extra _ stupid.

Thankfully, Charlie and Vaggie were across the room getting ready. You narrowed your eyes. “Yes, now let _ go._ Please.” You stood up, awkwardly, with your hand lax but entangled with his. He let out a heavily disappointed sigh, but released your hand and rose to his own feet, painfully separated from you. 

“See you guys soon.” You called, grabbing the map and a few flyers, and moved to exit the room. You knew he was following you.

You could _ feel _ it. _ The impending doom. _


	43. The IKEA Chapter

All things considered, the meeting had gone better than you had originally hoped. There wasn’t fire, bloodshed, or worst of all- an overload of glitter spread around again. While there was still tension between Alastor and Vaggie, you supposed there wasn’t much else you could say or do to make the situation better. 

In all honesty, you would probably just make it worse if you opened that big blabber mouth of yours. Though, you could understand why the moth demon was still so apprehensive when it came to the both of you. 

Because god dammit, _ you _ were still apprehensive. 

It was the understatement of the year to say that you were tired. Emotionally. Physically was a factor too, but you had been getting a better nights worth of rest, and for that, you supposed you had Alastor to thank. Though, he had _ also _the cause of your lack of sleep, hadn’t he? A soft sigh was released as the tension in your shoulders grew again. Your hand brushed against the coolness of the doorknob before it opened, and you escaped the confines of the room.

There was a lot to get started on, and despite having an eternity to do such tasks, literally, you didn’t want Charlie to have to wait. She had already waited for _ so long _ for her dream to be realized and because she was now your new boss, you had to put your best foot forward and show her that any dream was possible. You looked down at the flyers in your grip, you were surprised that the weight of the glitter somehow didn’t rip through the paper.

You guessed that it had some sort of magical property on it. 

Sorting through a few of them, you finally landed on a sketch of a map. Now that you had some breathing room, you could actually begin with figuring out how you would… fix it up on the computer. 

It was a pentagram, which was easy enough, you guessed. Just copy paste a pre-made one. Down here, you were sure there were quite a bit. If you had a hard time, maybe you _ would _ take up the offer of having Vaggie help you with… rendering? Was that the right word? 

You would figure something out. There _ had _to be something. This was your first real task! You couldn’t fail them now!

Just as you were about to head back to your room, _ his _looming presence alerted you, simply by the chills that ran up your spine. It was that gut feeling that told you that you were being watched, but there wasn’t any actual proof until you actually turned around to face the onlooker. A suspicion, and that was what it would have stayed if it were not for the static and radio silence that gave him away. 

Still, you couldn’t help but jump when he did speak up. Perhaps it was because he was always so enthusiastic, chipper, and _ loud. _

“What are you planning on doing now, darling?” He inquired, and you turned to look at him over your shoulder, only to watch as he strolled forward to stand at your side. 

His arms were casually behind his back as he leaned over with a general nosiness that only Alastor could have. “May I assist you?” His eagerness to help you was endearing, always wanting to be near you. Your original observation of him acting like a threatening puppy never made as much sense as it did now. 

You remembered the note on the drawing board. He hated space between you both. What a dork. 

You were about to give him a hard ‘no’, until you remembered that to do any of this to begin with, you needed a computer. And said computer was still in the car. A brisk breath escaped your nose before you offered a small nod.“There’s a desk and a computer in the car,” You took a step forward, pushing the papers underneath your arm.

“Can you help bring it to my room?” Maybe with the two of you, it wouldn’t be as difficult to bring in all the heavy items. While Alastor had the figure of a string bean, you knew that there was hidden strength in those sinewy lean muscles.

You tried not to linger too long on the fact that him assisting you in this meant you were giving him explicit permission to enter your room. For now at least. Hopefully this wouldn’t turn around and bite you in the ass. You were already beginning to imagine all the ways it could. 

“Of course, darling! It would be a pleasure!” A bow was offered before he disappeared from your side in a flash. Literally. There one moment, gone the next. You blinked owlishly at the spot he had once been in, but now wasn’t.

“Uh…” You hadn’t meant for him to literally disappear and do it himself. Hell, you were more than happy to have walked out and done the manual labor. He could be such a showoff when the time called for it. Uncertain of what to do as he wasn’t… there anymore, you remained still. 

Would he come back? Should you go to your room? To the car? What do you do now? He needed to slow down sometimes. He was always so _ quick. _Even at this point, it baffles you how he expected anyone to keep up with him. 

With the pace he set, it was nearly impossible. 

At the very least, if you went to your room, you could place the papers down. There were quite a few, and given that Alastor was a general pest and resident nuisance, you weren’t willing to let anything happen to such a precious stack of flyers. It held the future. Needless to say, with a heavy exhale, you trekked the majority of the way in silence. 

You couldn’t compete with the thoughts in your head that the silence often spurred on, so you didn’t even try. 

Your room wasn’t far. It had never been, and never would be. Coincidentally, everyone’s room in this massive hotel were close to each other’s. It was a nice idea to think that it was a comfort to those who needed it, but you were more than willing to believe that it was just because not a single resident wanted to walk further than they absolutely had too.

When you did arrive, grabbed the knob, and pushed open the door; you squinted in suspicion. In all of his glory, Alastor sat upon your bed next to the two large boxes that you had asked for him to bring in. He had been inspecting his microphone in silence before you had, and when you stepped in and closed the door, only then did he give the tool a twirl. 

“Anything else?” His eyelashes fluttered towards you appealingly.

The boxes were heavily taped. You needed scissors. Scissors… scissors. Upon walking over to your bed, your eyes flickered towards his hand. His _ clawed _hand. A lightbulb went off. “Can you open these?” You took a step back, uncertain if he would open it like a normal fucking person or just tear it open like an animalistic predator. 

Before you could properly react, the tape was sliced open neatly with a blur of red. There was a tut, and you looked up at him in surprise. “I hardly think that a wise use of my time, dear, when I could just as well…” He paused before he finished that thought, and his face split into a wider smile. 

You were glad that the smile wasn’t directed at you, because hoo boy. Hell to the no. Still, you narrowed your eyes.

“Nevermind, as I was saying!” He paused, looking over at the desk. “Ah yes, darling, do you need assistance in putting this… _ cheap _ desk together?” He spit the word out like it had the most bitter taste to mankind. And then, with a wave of his wrist, he continued on. “If you’d like, I could get you something more suitable for you.”

You frowned as you looked over at the pieces and parts of said desk. 

The computer was a different story. You would figure that out later. You doubted Alastor had a clue how to work one, so that would probably be something you had to do with Vaggie. “It’ll do its job. I’m not going to waste Charlie’s money.” You absolutely refused to. “But sure, I guess. Thanks.” You leaned over and began to dig through the wooden parts. Wasn’t there an instruction paper or something?

“This is Hell, darling, nothing comes with instructions.” He must have noticed you were looking for one, as all the bits and pieces that you needed were already in front of you. He crossed his legs and leaned away, only to admire the back of his hand, y’know, like a snob. 

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I can see that, smartass, thanks.” You sneered.

“I’ve always failed to see how that’s an insult, there’s nothing wrong with being smart.” He lowered his hand to eye you over it. 

Of course he would peacock over anything given the chance. “Then you’re not that… smart?” You made a face. Listen, you weren’t the best with insults. Shaking your head, you began to pull out the wooden legs and, just as you were going to place one on the bed, you hit his knee with one, playfully. 

“You gonna help, or what?”

He hummed. Loudly. “I’m not sure. You seem to be so sour, when all I’ve done is precisely what you’ve asked of me!” He brought his hands together and tilted his head. “Would you _ like _ me to help?”

Yeah, you guessed you had been a bit… snippy. “Sorry,” You murmured before releasing an exasperated sigh when you noticed that he was waiting for you to ask him specifically. “_ Please _ can you help me?” You settled the wooden leg down.

“I’d be delighted! Though I hardly see how all this mess becomes a desk.” He eyed the part half-heartedly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to get you a desk, and see if someone else in this place would like your... whatever this is?” He gestured to the mess of wood planks on the bed, an annoyed tick in his left eye as he looked at it. 

“I’m not wasting Charlie’s money.” You repeated, before lowering yourself to your knees, sliding the box off your bed, and continued to take the pieces out. Well, there was the piece that would be used to support the computer. Uh, the top. 

Whatever. You weren’t a carpenter. But it didn’t look… _ too _difficult. 

The bed squeaked as Alastor pushed himself off of it, and when he began to settle himself down next to you. Out of nowhere, a large, fluffy red carpet appeared under the two of you. “This looks like a horrific puzzle, darling. Where are the screws? Or are they nails? This seems like a lot of work.” He complained. 

You looked up at him with an ‘are you serious’ expression. You hadn’t even started doing anything yet, and he was already complaining? You saw him look at you out of the corner of his eye, and he scoffed as your look. 

“Well, you look at it!” He motioned. “I hardly think this counts as a desk. It's not even solid pieces of wood! This doesn’t constitute as anything but _ garbage _, I—“

You cut him off. “Are you going to just continue making jabs at the poor table or are you going to actually help me?” You crossed your arms.

He released a huff of annoyance through his nose and bent his forward so he could at least organize the cheap planks of compressed sawdust by size. Good. You began to sort through your own. 

Until, of course, you heard him mutter something about someone being stubborn. You let out an half-amused breath. “Why are you so huffy? Too much work?” You leaned over the box to take out yet another piece. There weren’t a lot, since it was just the desk and four legs. When you moved over to hand it back to it, you straightened yourself up so you could poke him on the cheek playfully. 

“You _ poor baby.” _He was such a child. Because god forbid Alastor ever did any actual work. Your hand was swatted away almost instantly, and you let out a short laugh behind closed lips. The quote on quote ‘threatening side eye’ that he gave you then was completely butchered by his stupid smile. 

“It’s not _ my _ fault you just happen to be increasingly stubborn.” He sighed. “Why you choose to do things the hard way will forever elude me.”

“Because unlike you, I can’t just.” You snapped your fingers. “Snap my fingers and have things appear, Alastor. If I’m going to get something done, then I’m going to do it my way.” With that, you handed him the last leg of the desk. “And if you don’t like it, then the door is right there.” 

You didn’t care. He was being annoying by being so huffy puffy, anyways. 

“I am offering to do that for you, but alas,” He grabbed the leg and swiped it away. “You are far too stubborn.”

“Am not.” You crossed your arms. “Now we’re _ definitely _doing it my way.” You muttered lowly under your breath, just to piss him off. “Do you even know how to put a table together?” 

“Transparently not.” He leaned forward and started sorting through the little packet of screws. “I’ve never been much of a carpenter, not with things like these at least.” His eyes were almost narrowed into slits as he glared at the desk before him. “I figure we may be able to figure this out, in a few years, if we keep at it.” 

You felt your right eye twitch. “Alright.” You leaned back. “What’s wrong with you?” He was never so… pissy. At least, outwardly. So jovial and chipper all the time. And now he wasn’t. Like, what the fuck, man? “Do you really not want to do this? Because if you don’t, like I said.” You motioned towards the door. “I can ask… uh, Niffty to help me. She probably knows how to set up a table.” 

Yeah. She was a nifty person. 

He shook his head. “I want to help you, and if that means struggling through this mass of pressed wood fiber, then so be it!” He declared, proudly, boldly, placing his hand over his chest like he was making a vow. “Even though it is going to be torture, surely.” He eyed all the little bits and bobs once more. 

There were two large slabs, four legs, and two drawers that needed assembly, it looked simple enough, you could even see pre-drilled holes.

The first hour was probably the most difficult of the three you had to spend to put this contraption together. With him complaining and getting a bit of work done, you were left with not only a childish deer demon, but with quite a few splinters. Things in Hell, you learned quickly, generally weren’t made of the best quality.

The second hour was where the most progress was made, as you had actually gotten him to hush up and help you. Thankfully, after that hump was passed, the third hour came quickly enough. 

“Finally.” There she stood in all of her glory, saw dust and… just dust in general on it, but! It was done! It was finished. You rested your hands on your hips proudly. You brought a hand down and gave the thing a few smacks, and when it didn’t crumble and fall, you motioned for Alastor to put the computer on the desk. 

All of your hard work was soon to pay off!

Alastor let out an aggravated, but pleased enough sigh as he settled the strange box at the top of the desk… only for it to crack underneath the pressure. Luckily, he was able to catch the expensive looking box before it fell. 

“Are you… _ kidding me?” _You stared at the desk, your jaw basically to the floor as a pile of dust clouded into the small vicinity of the room it had been placed in. 

This was surely the height of luxury in Hell.

“You know, none of this would have happened should you have listened to me in the first place.” Alastor states.

“YOU’RE NOT _ HELPING _!” You hollered.

“Neither is your shouting, but alas, here we are, with nothing to show for our hard work.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “And you wonder why I snap my fingers for everything.” 

You brought your hand up to your temples and rubbed them. He was such a headache. But he was a charming headache. Fuck it. “_ Fine.” _You huffed grumpily. You brought your hand back down and snapped a bunch of times. “Do the snappity thing.” 

He pressed the screen into your hands, and as soon as he was freed, he snapped his fingers, removing the disappointment of your previous desk to replace it with a beautifully carved oak desk that looked like it would have held up against a tank. 

You weren’t so easily fooled. 

You narrowed your eyes and held the monitor protectively. “Sit on it.” If it didn’t break under his weight, then the computer would last. You had a close call with nearly losing the monitor last time. You looked up at him expectantly. 

He rose a brow before hopping onto it. But he didn’t sit, and you watched as he picked himself up so that he was standing on the desk. Of course he would. “Care for a dance darling?” He bent at the waist and held out his hand with a shit eating grin. He even did a little tap with his heel as he smiled at you. 

Incredibly silly. You rolled your eyes, an stressfully amused breath falling from your lips as you took a step forward and settled the computer on the desk. You warily watched it for a moment, before coming to grip with the reality that it wouldn’t break.

He was literally standing on the desk. Ridiculous. You couldn’t even look up at him now without hurting your neck. He was so damn _ tall. _“I can’t dance.” You murmured, letting the computer slide to the center of the table. You could hook it up later. You wanted a break. 

After three hours of manual labor and without anything to show for it, you were more than a little disappointed. 

“Lucky for us both, I have enough jazz in my veins for both of us! So, darling, what do you say?” He flexed his palm, still holding out his hand for you, his tone returning to the one you associated with him: big and dumb. 

“I say that you can get off the table now,” You reached up, grabbed his hand, and attempted to yank him back down.

He released a sigh from his nose. “Fine.” He appeared at your side. “Perhaps tomorrow then.” 

“I never said that I wouldn’t dance with you.” You never said you _ would _either, but here you were. “I just told you to get off of the table.” It was a hard ‘maybe’.

“Is that a yes?” He perked up at the chance to dance with you, his eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and smile one of those genuine ones you had seen on him before. 

“Mmm…” You dragged out. “Maybe.” You turned to him then with a teasing smile.

“Hmmm, well then what would you say if I were to ask you out for a night on the town? Perhaps tomorrow evening?” His head quirked to the side, his ears swaying with the motion. 

Wait what the fuck. Your eyes widened, caught off guard. And then you remembered. Oh, _ you remembered. _You pushed a stray hair out of your face, as it had come to tickle you. From your surprise, the faintest of blushes had crept up upon your face. Did you have a choice in the matter? 

You wanted to say yes, but you also wanted to say, well, not no, because… because you liked him. Oh, you had said you had felt fondness for him. And now here you were, with Alastor asking you out on a date. 

“Is this from the deal?” You questioned.

“No, not unless you still wish for me to leave you alone afterwards.” He shook his head. “This is just… a man wishing to take the woman he cares about out for a night of fun.” He hummed happily after his words, his eyes closing with the sound before blinking back open, a close lipped smile on his face.

You looked off to the side for a moment, rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t even realize you were grinning until your jaw began to hurt. “Ye-” You cut yourself off, a soft laugh. “Yeah, sure.” You couldn’t believe you had actually said yes. But you also could. Because you did. And now you were nervous. Great. And then you squinted. “Fun doesn’t mean_ ‘murder’ _ right?” You peeked up at him.

“While I think it would be entirely wonderful to spend quality bonding time with you slaughtering the fools that wander these derelict streets, I was thinking more along the lines of dinner and a walk.” He winked. “Though, do let me know if you change your mind.”

“Why would I change my mind?” 

“I meant about the murder.”

“OH. Yeah, no. Uh, no murder.”

He let out a sultry chuckle and leant down, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Very well then.” He placed a lingering kiss on your cheek before leaving your room the normal way. By walking. 

Your fingers immediately moved to the spot where he had kissed you, and you watched as he strolled out. You were still. You could hear your heartbeat. Holllyyy shiiit. You needed to tell someone. Angel was… dealing with his own stuff. Husk was a good candidate, but he didn’t really give a shit.

Charlie and Vaggie.

With a heavy intake of air, you sprinted out of your room and bee-lined it straight for theirs.

You nearly slammed into their door, skidding to a halt as you yanked it open. You didn’t even knock. “GUYS, YOU WOULD NOT _ BELIEVE— _” you were cut off by seeing not only Charlie and Vaggie standing up, but Angel Dust in there as well. “Oh.”

He turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow, along with Charlie and Vaggie’s surprised expressions. Vaggie’s face was red, which must’ve meant that she had been getting heated about _ something. _

It occured to you that Charlie was probably making them apologize to each other from that one time in the lobby, where they basically destroyed the place.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Charlie immediately piped up. She looked concerned. You probably looked like a mess, covered in sawdust and other dirt. Your hair was probably wild, too. 

“Alastor asked me out on a date.” You blurted, heaving out as you caught your breath. You had run all the way here.

Charlie had literal stars in her eyes. “He what?” She squealed happily. She shipped the two of you so hard.

Vaggie looked at you with a slack jaw, speechless.

Angel Dust only sputtered out a loud _ ‘ha!’ _ before he walked over to you. “Did ya tell ‘im no? How did ya do it?” He wanted the deets.

It occured to you that Angel was not caught up on all of the bullshit, and you rubbed the back of your neck. “I didn’t.” You replied. 

“You said _ yes!?” _Vaggie and Charlie cried out, in dramatically different tones. 

“Ya what.” Angel looked confused now, the questioning tone in his voice gone and instead, a deadpanned statement.

You rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. 

Charlie was absolutely _ grinning. _“When is this happening?”

You looked at Vaggie and Angel, but they were no help, so you returned your sights to Charlie. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Vaggie repeated. “Hun, are you sure you want to do this?” She brushed past Angel harshly and he scoffed, crossing his arms. 

You hesitated. No. You had said yes, you were going. You wanted to do this. “...Yeah.”

“Then it’s settled!” Charlie squealed, clapping like a child. Vaggie looked at her in an exasperated manner, her arms stretched out. 

“Vaggie, it’s fine! They’re fine! Let them be happy!” Charlie took hold of Vaggie’s shoulders. 

“Corazon, are you _ sure? _I mean, I—”

“Ya know she’s right here, right?” Angel piped up and you shot him an appreciative glance. 

The two of them looked over at you sheepishly. 

“Now can someone explain to me what the fuck is goin’ on? Don't ya hate the prick?” His eyebrows were furrowed, and when you were about to open your mouth, Charlie interrupted.

“Tomorrow morning, day off. Angel, you’re coming with! We’ll explain it to you! We have to get you ready! Hair, nails, OOH, we have to get you a dress, too!” She hopped up and down, her words spilling out of her mouth faster than you could process it.

You made a face. Charlie was overly excited, that much was for sure. “We’ll, um… see how it goes, okay? I do need to get something to wear, though.” You couldn’t believe you were talking about getting a dress or… something. You weren’t really a dress person. But maybe one would catch your eye.

“Yeah, okay.” Vaggie shrugged, crossing her arms.

“Whateva’.” Angel was just in for the details, alright? Not because he gave a shit about you or anything.

“...Okay.” You backed yourself out the door. 

“10am! Be here!” Charlie called out, and you nodded with a light, nervous laugh. Oh man.

_ What did you get yourself into? _


	44. Get Up Loser, We’re Going Shopping

Down in Hell, there were very few things you could actually prepare for. 

Preparation comes in different forms: emotional and physical. Emotionally, you can prepare through experience and speculation alone. Physically, it’s quite hard. Only through training and blatant, point-blank knowledge that something is going to happen could you ever accurately prepare for an event or reaction, physically.

You could prepare for the Extermination, for example, but even then— you could never be sure if you would live to see the next. 

With the influx of crime and general unpredictability that was faced down here, you doubted _ anyone _ could be on par with the demands of such things. That being said, you were at the very least relieved that you could _ try _to prepare for either a night of ‘fun’ as Alastor put it, or the most plausible outcome: disaster. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Alastor… but you didn’t trust Alastor. 

You were in a whirlwind of emotion that transitioned from nervousness, giddiness, and the well known sensation of butterflies fluttering around the walls of your stomach. The mere thought of what awaited you in a handful of hours didn’t help your cause, either. As much as you tried to talk sense into yourself that it would all turn out alright, you couldn’t seem to get rid of that single ‘what if’ that buzzed around in your brain like an insistent pest. 

Fly swatters didn’t work on the muddled thoughts of your mind, unfortunately.

You were nervous. Slowly, you brought your nails to your lips, began to chew on the tips, and turned to look at the clock. 

The ticks that filled the otherwise silent room were a sense of stability for you. Your already heightened heart rate, spurred on from your habit of overthinking even the most mundane possibilities had, thankfully, slowed down enough for you to take a deep breath. You inhaled, and then let the tension escape your shoulders with the exhale. 

Wrapping your hand around the cool brass of the doorknob, you twisted it, and let yourself out into the long, narrow corridor. Thankfully, you had prepared for the special outing. You adorned the winter jacket that you had snagged during your last shopping spree, a dark long-sleeved shirt, leggings, and a pair of boots that would protect you from the snow that still lingered outside. 

You weren’t a big fan of the cold, but there was a calm surrender that the snow offered in a damned world full of unimaginable horrors. Perhaps it was the ethereal softness of it. Maybe it was the color that was reminiscent of purity. You weren’t sure, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to ponder on such things for too long, either. 

By the time you reached your destination, you anxiously toyed with the sleeve of your jacket as you rocked on the balls of your feet. Slowly, you brought a fist up and knocked. It _ was _ten, right? You turned around despite already being well aware of the situation to look at the conveniently placed wall clock that told the time.

Yeah, ten. 

Like you said, you could try your best, but you couldn’t really prepare for the unknown. What you _ did _know, though, was that you needed to psych yourself up even when you were certain that Angel Dust would have a hundred and one questions already written down and ready to go. You wondered how his situation was going. 

Briefly. 

The door swung open, and you were greeted by an absolutely beaming Charlie. 

“Good morning!” She chirped happily, a lilt at the end of her words; a bit too loud for the time.

You instantly knew that the day was bound to be… something. 

“Morning.” The sudden urge to yawn was overwhelming, and when it reached its breaking point, you brought a fist up and covered your mouth before moving both hands to your eyes. Rubbing them with a bit too much fervor, you only eased up when strikes of different colors raced across your vision. 

“Aren’t you excited to get ready for your date!?” Charlie clapped her hands together, and you lowered your hands to see her bouncing on her heels. You laughed in a state of nerves. 

“Nervous, more like.” You said. The flurry of emotions had followed you all the way here. You found yourself in a mixture of feeling excited to get to the main event, and for it to be all over so you could go back to sleep at long, long last. Introversion at best. “I haven’t been on a date before. I mean—“ You averted your gaze as you thought back. “Not that I can remember. I don’t_ think _ I have.” 

Before Charlie could respond, the familiar moth demon strolled from the bathroom, which, from the ajar door, was in view. “Is that Angel? He—“ Vaggie cut herself off as she turned to take in the scene. You were not the effeminate spider. “Oh, hey.” An awkward smile found its way onto her face. 

You blinked. The speculation of having interrupted something between the two of them yesterday was fresh on your mind, but alas, with it in a whirlwind, you doubted you could stay on topic of anything important for very long right now. “Do I sound like Angel?” You raised an eyebrow teasingly, a silly smile forming upon your lips. 

“_No!” _Vaggie’s hands flew out as she exclaimed. “I mean, he just… we had a thing uh, yesterday. I was thinking he might be back at our door, is all.” She waved you into the room then, and Charlie immediately stepped back to grant you entry. You did so, but stuffed your hands into the warm fur of the pockets of your jacket before anything.

The meeting desk was gone.

It’s none of my business,” but. There was always a but. “Did it have to do with that time in the lobby?” You looked idly around the room. You were nosy, at times.

“No, actually. It’s…” Charlie piped up, and you looked at her. “It’s not really our place to talk about it, but Angel is having problems with his uh… He’s having problems with someone.” Charlie offered, not entirely comfortable diving into too much detail while Angel himself wasn’t present.

Yes, you knew the situation enough to say that was probably the best decision. A curt nod was given before you looked between the two of them. “Okay. Is he coming? I mean, uh, Angel.” You weren’t sure what you were standing in their room for if they were ready, you were ready, and literally nothing was stopping you from skipping out of the hotel. 

“Of course! We just have to go wake him up!” Charlie started laughing lightly to herself. “He _ is _ a pretty heavy sleeper.” She didn’t sound unkind, as she seldom did, but she could have mentioned just how difficult it was to wake a sleeping asshole.

“I know how to wake him up.” You grinned mischievously. You did it before. You could do it again.

“Sure, lets go get his lazy ass and get the day started.” Vaggie sounded a bit sour (about which part you were unclear) but you supposed anything to do with Angel or Alastor was bound to put her in a bad mood. 

When the three of you left the room, you made the observation that the best part about having staff share a single hallway, was that it didn’t take you long to reach each other’s doors. 

You pushed your cheek against the door, hand gently curled around the handle, before putting a finger to your lips in a ‘sh’ing motion. Charlie and Vaggie stood behind you, and once you rested your ear against the door, you found that all you could hear were his loud snores. 

You opened it quietly, and were instantly greeted by Fat Nuggets raising his head off of the end of the bed. He stared at you with those adorable, beady black eyes and you silently crept over, and rubbed his head. After a moment of such, you leaned down, grabbed one of the pillows and threw it as hard as you could at Angel’s snoring, drooling form. 

In a blur of off-white and pink, the effeminate spider shot up, just as you put your hands on your hips. “Ey! What the _ fuck?_” 

You didn’t exactly blame Angel for being grumpy, he was notoriously lazy. You understood it was because he felt that it was one-hundred percent easier not to do things than do them. You felt that on a personal level.

You looked back to Charlie and Vaggie, only to see Vaggie peer in and yell at the top of her lungs: 

“Wake up loser, we’re going shopping!”

You snickered lowly to yourself. You gazed back at Angel who now adorned the most pissed off expression you had ever seen on a person. Though, it was short lived when he realized that he couldn’t get out of actually going shopping. He leaned back into the pillows and crossed his arms. 

“I hate this fuckin’ household.” He muttered before spitting out a: “_ FINE! _ Now get outta my room, will ya?” He got up then and roughly pushed the three of you out with three of his four arms and, before any of you could react properly, the door closed behind you with a:

_ SLAM! _

You blinked, looking at the time on the wall.

10:20. 

10:25. 

10:30.

“I’m going to drag his ass out.” Vaggie hissed. 

10:35. 

The door opened in a flourish, Angel Dust adorned in his normal attire but a lot more… himself. Spunky. Flashy. Sequined. He smoothed out his hair with a grumpy expression before staring directly at the three of you. 

“What?” He curled his lip, narrowing his eyes as if you had something clever to say. “Beauty takes time, sweetcheeks, I don’t expect ya to understand!” He brought a gloved hand up, grabbed your face, and pushed you out of his way with a ‘snrk’. 

_ Payback _.

You scoffed in disbelief, arms flying out. “Asshole!” He was about to catch these hands.

“Ya know it, toots!” He called back. 

You looked back to Charlie and Vaggie who were staring owlishly, before Charlie cleared her throat.

“Wait up, Angel!” She ran after him, and you and Vaggie followed. 

“Where are you even going? Charlie’s gonna drive us!” You huffed our in exasperation.

“Wherever Charlie’s takin’ ya ain’t no good.” Angel Dust looked down to Charlie who looked… slightly offended. Vaggie looked like she was about to pummel him. “Sorry, Chuckles. When yer me, ya just know the way of the world.” A wave of his gloved hand as he snickered in an egotistical manner.

You knew you were in for a long day.

“Can you even drive?” Vaggie side eyed him, entirely untrusting of all the words that fell from his bullshit mouth.

He scoffed, but stopped in his step. “Ya bet yer ass I-” he cut himself off, his mouth opened and hand lifted in a condescending manner… before it faltered. “_Fine.” _

“You know, Angel, you could give me directions. Is that alright?” Charlie, ever the peacekeeper, wanted this outing to be a happy one and if that meant making a few adjustments on her original plans, then so be it. You remained silent the entire time. You didn’t really care where you went, just so long as you got back in time and didn’t y’know, look like a clown.

“Yeah, sure, whateva’.” He rolled his mismatched eyes. “Lead the way, babycakes.” 

Charlie smiled and led the way to the garage. When you were all in the concealed space, she slipped into the driver’s seat. You went ahead and slipped into the back while,

“_ Shotgun! _” Angel and Vaggie hollered at the same exact time. 

“Like hell ya are!” Angel sneered as he pushed Vaggie roughly out of the way.

“She’s my girlfriend! I always sit next to her, you stubborn _ ass _!” Vaggie had her hand firmly planted on the handle.

“Yeah? Tough shit! _ I’m _ givin’ the directions!” He slapped her hand away.

She growled and knocked into him with her knee, shoving him forward enough to put her hand back on the handle. “You don’t need to be in the front to give directions, hija de miedra malparido de—“ 

“GUYS!” Charlie yelled.

You were watching the entire time with wide, amused eyes. You couldn’t help but muffle a laugh as you leaned your head on your palm,

_ “What!?” _They yelled synonymously. 

“How about Angel sits in the back until the ride home?” Charlie tried to appease the situation.

Angel Dust dropped all arms at once in anguish. He couldn’t argue with _ Charlie. _Vaggie gave a winning grin, folding her arms as he scoffed and flicked her on the forehead. When Angel came to sit next to you, only to stick his head in the center, blocking Vaggie’s sight from Charlie, he started giving directions to… wherever.

“Y’know, arguing over the front seat, you sound like a bunch of bickering siblings.” You commented airily, and when Angel reeled around to stare at you, he blinked. He looked uncomfortable at the observation, but just as quickly, he began to mess with his flooded chest.

“Ya don’t know what yer talkin’ about, toots.” He huffed, leaning back against the leather seats once he was done giving directions. “So how about this date with Smiles? Yer really goin’ on a date with him?”

“Uh, I mean.” You trailed off, looking out the window, y’know, like they do in those movies. “Sorta. I mean? Yeah, I’m… It’s a date.” You could see him staring at you through the reflection.

“So is this like a real date, or did ya just finally start the deal off?”

Your cheeks warmed. “He asked me, and I said yes. It’s not the deal, I already asked that. I don’t…” You sighed, the fog of your breath hitting the glass. “I changed the deal so that he wouldn’t have to leave me alone.”

There was silence for a long moment.

And in a moment of sudden speech, Charlie had nearly slammed on the breaks, Vaggie had whipped around to face you, and Angel had slapped the back of your head so your forehead would bump into the glass.

“Fuckin’ _ ow!?” _You hollered, rubbing your forehead with a frown.

“Are ya fuckin’... nuts or somethin’?” He hissed out.

“... You made a deal with Alastor?” Vaggie sounded deadpan in her tone, shocked. 

“Why would you do that?” Charlie even sounded worried. 

Aw shit… you slumped into the seat, glaring at Angel who just returned the same exact look to you. “It was to get him to leave me alone, originally. He could have a day with me, but then he needed to leave me alone. I changed the deal after… I, uh—“ 

“You made your own deal…” Charlie trailed off. “You know, that’s a dangerous path to be on, making your own deals.” She warned, looking at you through the rear view mirror. 

You slumped further into your seat, averting your gaze. “I’m not going down that path. I learned! The only way I would ever make a deal was to save you guys!” You tried to appease the situation.

“I knew you were an idiot, toots, but that’s a great way to get yerself fucked ova.” Angel stared at you like the dumbass you were. 

“I changed the deal!” You blurted, feeling the heat of being cornered. “It’s not really a deal now, I don’t… really know what it is.”

There was silence for another minute before a sigh was heard from the front seat. 

“The seals from a deal cannot be broken until the original deal is fulfilled.” Charlie explained. “I mean, you made an amendment, but _ still _ ... be careful with all that. You _ really _ don’t want to be making any more deals okay?” She admonished softly.

You rubbed your arm and nodded silently. Vaggie looked like she wanted to know the changes you made, but she decided not to question it after her hand was held by Charlie’s at the center console.

“Yeah, okay. No more deals.” You sighed under your breath. 

Needless to say, the rest of the car ride was surprisingly quiet. Some music filled the gaps, but with the headache that was just beginning to throb in your head from the fact that Angel had literally slammed your forehead into the glass, such sounds didn’t really help. At the very least, it tuned out the beginnings of what nervous thoughts that were to be had. 

“There it is.” Angel spoke up suddenly.

“Here?” Vaggie questioned at the… rather worn down shop called ‘sNAILS’. You squinted suspiciously, leaning forward in your seat as Charlie pulled into the parking lot silently. 

You looked to Angel. What game was he playing?

“What’s the long face for, toots?” He poked your cheek harshly, and you swatted his hand away. He swatted your wrist with another hand in response. If you hadn’t been the bigger person a stopped, it would have escalated into a slapping fight. 

“Nothing.” You were onto him.

He shrugged. 

When the four of you exited the car, you closed the door behind you and made headway towards the towards what you could assume was a nail salon. There was a glass paneling, and a sloth demon was wiping down said glass with a rag. Nothing out of the ordinary, of course, until the four of you actually went inside and were greeted by a chiming bell. 

What you were greeted with were not two sloths, but an entire team of sloths. There were sloths painting toenails, sloths giving manicures, sloths at the front desk. There were sloths everywhere, and they all worked at a _ snail's pace. _Ah. You understood the meaning of the name for the store now.

At least they had a sense of humor.

“They’re all SLOTHS!?” Vaggie whisper-yelled.

“Ey! Shut yer trap, alright? I know they’re slow as shit, but these guys are the best in the business, so _ deal with it. _” Angel Dust responded, already looking at the wall of nail polish. 

Charlie looked hesitant, and the two of you immediately looked towards the clock on the wall. 11AM. 

“Did Alastor give you a time?” Charlie leaned into you as Angel Dust told the front desk what everyone wanted. He knew the sloths, he had slept with their boss. That sloth had the slowest rising orgasm he had ever witnessed. It was incredible.

You blue screened. Hard.

“He said this... evening?” You said hesitantly. 

“Dios Mio, evening could be as early as four. And if we’re being served by sloth demons, then you can bet your ass we won’t be out of here until then!” Vaggie huffed.

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, Vags.” Charlie offered. If Angel Dust knew what he was doing, then she trusted him.

Angel had the smuggest grin on his face known to man as he turned around in a flourish, rubbing a hand through his hair. Fur? Whatever. “Yer lucky ya know me, toots! Their fastest peeps are gonna get us in right now!” 

A tall and very slow sloth approached you all, already waving a very... impressively... slow arm, motioning for you all to come back. 

Charlie was hopeful. Vaggie was exasperated. You were hoping that it wouldn’t take too long.

It had taken three hours.

But with four sloths for four people, none of you had to wait for anyone to be done first. Charlie essentially threw money at them and shoved you all back into the car. You had red nailpolish, Angel had pink, Vaggie had grey, and Charlie had black.

“They ain’t gonna chip,” Angel stated, looking over his nails and snapping a picture with his phone only to upload it to ‘InstaScam’

“InstaScam…?” You questioned, peering at his phone curiously. There were a lot of images on his feed of things that other demons were selling, and a lot of… suggestive images that you shielded yourself away from immediately.

“The amount of shit ya can find on here is practically unlimited! Ya need somethin for a cheap price? Ya need to find hookups? Black Market?” He started counting off different things you could find on there.

“_ Angel. _” Charlie eyed him.

“Yeah yeah, play nice. I got ya, Chuckles. Ya need directions, right?” He completely disregarded the fact that he had been excitedly talking about sketchy things. 

“If the next place we go to are snails or something else, I will stab you.” Vaggie warned. 

Angel rolled his eyes. “Don’t get yet taco in a twist, baby. We’re gonna go see a place my boss knows: Hooters. I’ve fucked the manager, we can get in without an appointment!” He fucked the manager of practically every place he went on the regular. Shorter lines? Deals? Fuck yeah.

“What is it?” Charlie questioned.

“Hair salon.” Angel quipped.

You looked at him with wide eyes. You were getting your hair done. Of course you were. You didn’t even know what you wanted. Your hair was already… nice the way it was. If you told them to do whatever, you would probably come out of there with a bright green head. Something natural, simple. 

Okay, that could work.

Hooters wasn’t too far away, and when you arrived, it looked a lot more modern than a lot of other places. Piling out of the car, Angel sauntered in with the three of you following. 

Immediately you were greeted with a very dapper looking Owl demon. “Ah, Angel.” He sauntered over, placing the phone he was holding down on the desk. He looked at the three of you. “I wasn’t aware you were interested in a female driven orgy.” He hooted in laughter.

Your face immediately bursted into a shade of warmth. 

“Cut the shit, Owlbert, not with this lot. We just need to get this bitch dolled up.” Angel pushed you forward roughly and you sneered up at him. “She’s got a night out on the town.”

“Ooh, a _ date! _” Owlbert nearly swooned. A taloned finger twirled a strand of your hair as he looked over instantly what he could do. “Hmn, yes, this will need a lot of work. But once you leave this place, you will be looking like a real woman!” 

You made a face. He didn’t need to be so… rude about it. “Something simple, please.” You clarified your desires.

The stylist looked to Angel then, since he was the one paying apparently. 

“What? I don’t give a shit. This betta be free.” Angel said, crossing all of his arms. 

“Free?” Owlbert hooted one laughter. “Why in the world would it be _ free—“ _

“Because if it ain’t, I will make sure ya won’t have a dick to be sucked.” Angel sneered, before he looked him up and down. “Not that you have much of one anyway, isn’t that right?” He batted his eyelashes.

Owlbert scoffed before pushing Angel away, fixing his tie and clearing his throat. “We’re going to pretend that didn’t happen, yes? Yes! Carry on now… you, uh, little gremlin.” He let a hand rest on your shoulders as he lead you to a leather chair.

You had no idea that wanting to look like yourself was going to be such an arduous, painful process. There were three other owl demons fussing about you, tugging on your hair, pinning it and styling it, all at the same time. 

You peeked at the side, only to see Angel laughing at you while he flirted with Owlbert. Charlie and Vaggie were looking at the products on the shelves. You let out a sigh as you were pulled to the left, only to have a hot iron rolled into your hair. 

If this was the height of professionalism in Hell… it wasn’t all that bad. 

You had worse service on the surface. Didn’t matter where you were, people sucked. 

When you were finished, it was about three. Your hair was curled, but wholly natural looking in a sense while also appearing fancy enough to show that effort was put in. You were already exhausted from the fussing and being dragged around, your introversion already slamming into you full force. “Thanks, guys.” You told the three owls that worked on you, and they gave a silent nod. 

And then, once Charlie gushed over you and Angel paid, you were out the door yet again, only to… cross the street to a fancy-looking boutique. Charlie was dragging you by the wrist, and it was apparent that this was the part she had been most excited about. 

While Charlie zoomed about the store, you took your time in picking out things you might actually wear again. 

You settled on a red sweater dress, black thermal leggings, boots, and a cute red beanie with a little furry poof at the top. Casual, cute, but most importantly, warm.

“That’s what yer gonna wear?” Angel eyed the subdued outfit with distaste. He held a pair of pink lingerie up for you to look at. “Ya sure ya wouldn’t want to wear this instead?”

“Yep.”

“Yer so boring.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, Angel. Appreciate it.” You pushed him playfully.

He scoffed as if he were offended by the push.

“Ooh! That looks really pretty!” Charlie gushed. “Are you ready to go?”

You gnawed on your lip and nodded lightly. 

You, Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel paid for whatever you wanted to buy and the three of you piled into the car for the final time. It was odd, you noticed, because now that you were on your way home, you noticed that Alastor hadn’t entered your thought a single time through the day. Your nervousness, anxiety, and overall business had blocked out the majority of your thoughts now that you thought about it.

When you saw the hotel, you had never been more relieved. Of course, until the anxiousness took grip.

“Do you need help getting ready?” Charlie offered, coming up to your side as you all got out and as she locked the car behind you. Angel was already half-way to the door, but when he heard that, he stopped. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, and he ran back, snatched your arm, and grinned at Charlie. 

“I got this! Catch ya later, freaks!” He spoke so fast that you barely had time to process what was happening, because you were already racing up the patio and now you were in the hotel.

“_ Angel! _ Slow down, holy shit!” Your eyes were wide. You could barely keep up with him when he was walking, and he expected you to keep up with him now?

“Shaddup! Shaddup. We’re gonna make ya a piece of art, toots!” He sounded genuinely excited. You blinked, furrowed your brows, before releasing a sigh.

Fine.

You were in your room before you could blink, and when he let you go, you brought your hands to your knees, watching in bewilderment as Angel opened your closet door and immediately started throwing things around. What the fuck was he looking for? “What are you doing?” 

You couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed that he was going through your closet without asking. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened.

“Saving ya love life, toots! Y'all will thank me tomorrow morning!” He let out a snicker. 

You made a face, setting down your bags on the bed. You wouldn’t even try to stop him. He was literally an eight foot tall spider. You couldn’t even if you tried.

“A-_ HA _!” He shouted, and you jumped. When you turned around, you were greeted by the red lingerie that you had forgotten about. Your face immediately blossomed into an assortment of reds.

You understood now. “No.”

“_ Yes! _ Believe me, in case somethin’ happens between you and Smiles, you’ll be glad ya listened to yer pal, Angel.” He jabbed a thumb at himself and ended with a wink.

“I’m not wearing lingerie to a date, Angel.” You huffed. 

“Ya can’t even see it under the zillion layers! Don’t be such a pussy!”

“Nothing’s going to happen!” You tried to reason. Your face was so warm.

“Then what’s the harm in wearin’ it?”

You squinted at him, your arms falling to your sides. He was just as stubborn as you were, and it was getting real darn close to… five. Oh, it was five. Shit. You looked back over to him, practically hissed as you took it out of his hand, and tried to push him out of the door.

“Fine! Fine! Now get out, go.”

“I ain’t leavin until I know yer wearin it! Besides, you ain’t got nuthin I want!” He didn’t budge, even as you tried your damndest.

“I’m not getting changed in front of you, Angel!” You cried out in exasperation.

“You’re such a frigid little prude, get ova yerself! Haven’t ya eva had a slumber party or sumthin?” 

You stared at him long and hard. You couldn’t believe he was making you do this. “Fine. Just… turn around. Please.” 

He rolled his eyes, but turned around. You were so childish.

You stared a moment longer before warily turning to the bag, setting out your clothes, before setting the lingerie down. You began to strip, shimmying out of your shoes, pants, shirt, and finally your bra and underwear. The lingerie still had it’s tag on it. You slid on the red lace cupped bra and underwear and cleared your throat. You were exceedingly uncomfortable in it right now. 

Mostly because Angel was going to see you in it.

He turned around and a wide grin lit up his face. “See, I told ya, ya look hot as hell, doll! Don’t you feel good? Sexy!? Like the whole world is gonna bow at yer feet to fuck ya?”

You blinked at him. “No.” 

“...Work in progress, but ya look good, doll! Now finish puttin on the boring shit ya got so I can finish yer makeup.”

This was such a process. 

You internally groaned at the fact that you still had more stuff to do. Nodding, you turn and put the thermal leggings on first, and then your sweater dress. Last came the socks and boots. Everything fit. You let out a soft breath of relief. You hadn’t tried them on beforehand. “Okay.” You said, and turned back around to face him. He was right, you couldn’t see anything. Your nerves eased slightly. 

But you were still nervous. 

All of his arms popped out, already armed with makeup tools and an errant hairdryer. “Ya ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You sighed, and sat on the bed.

If you thought having three owls fussing over you, it was nothing compared to having one effeminate spider having all his hands on you at once. His hands and arms were moving in such a flurry, had your eyes been open, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything. You felt the taps of a brush on your cheeks, gentle sweeps on your eyelids.

“So uh,” You started softly, nervously. “You said… that wearing lingerie would do something? What? How?” It felt weird, still, on you. But you were getting used to the texture. You were clueless.

A rare soft smile graced his face, luckily your eyes were still shut. “Lingerie always makes me feel like a million bucks. Especially when the idiot I’mma bout to fuck loses their shit over it.”

Ah. You weren’t really… sure how to ask. “If um, something happens, Angel, what do I do?” You blurted. You really didn’t need the blush that he was applying on you, because your face was already turning red. 

“Ya expectin’ somethin’ to happen?”

“No.” You said quickly. “I just, I don’t know.”

“What, haven’t ya eva fucked a guy before?” He snickered.

You opened your eyes to look up at him. Your silence was answer enough.

He gasped, “Doll, dudes are easy! Suck a dick, touch em, bite a neck, and ya ride ‘im until he can’t see straight, it’s easy!”

That didn’t sound easy. “For you, at least.” You huffed. “You’ve been doing it for so long.” But still, you put that information in a file in your brain for… later use, maybe. 

“Can’t help I'm the best at what I do. Besides, I’m all done here.”

“Oh.” 

He stepped back, and you hopped off the bed. You walked over to the mirror and looked at your reflection. You looked… good. You inspected yourself, before a silly smile began to play at your lips. 

“_ IF _ ya do get down to brass tax, just relax. Hurts more if yer tense.” He shrugged. 

You were already tense for a date. God help you if you ever did something more… physical. “Thanks for helping me, Angel.” You looked over your shoulder.

“Are ya done?” He questioned after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah. Um, yeah. I mean?” Maybe you could stay in here a bit longer.

He could sense your apprehension and immediately started shoving you out the door. 

“Hey! Wait I think I forgot something—“ You didn’t, you just wanted to get back into your room, desperately.

“_ Hello, Darling! _ ” Alastor flipped his pocket watch closed and slipped it back into his pocket. You nearly screamed, whipping around to see _ him _ standing near you. 

Angel cracked you on the ass, and you yelped loudly. 

“Good luck, toots!” He called, already gone from your side and down the hallway.

Oh, your nervousness was already sparked into a wildfire now. Anxiously, you looked back over to Alastor who’s attire was similar, except for the colors. He was in a suit jacket that was now black; there was a red undershirt, but generally it was all the same ‘thing’, just the colors were different.

“...Hi.” You rubbed the back of your neck. He also looked good. God damn it.

“Are you ready for our date, my little sharkling?” He smiled down at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners warmly.

You were nervous, that was for damn sure. You guessed you were ready. You were dressed. That was all you needed, right? “Yeah, I’m ready.” You softly smiled, averting your eyes after a moment.

“Excellent! You look lovely by the way.” He bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek, before placing a red rose behind your ear. It had been trimmed of thorns, and was still, very much alive, though you wouldn’t know it, it was enchanted to remain so forever. 

Your blush probably burned through the makeup. “You do too, uh, I mean,” You looked over him from where you were. “...Handsome.”

“Thank you. You are quite precious when you’re so flustered.” He offered you his arm, that gentle smile playing on his lips. 

Hell yeah you were. Not precious, but flustered. You weren’t sure how to ‘date’. How does one ‘date’? When he offered you his arm, you stared at it for a long moment. You weren’t aware of previous traditions regarding ‘escorting’. 

“Huh?” You were confused.

“Would you care to take my arm? It’s tradition, I believe, for a gentleman to escort a lady.” He explained.

“Oh.” He was right. Right. You nodded, before you wound your arm through his awkwardly. You were all sorts of a mess. You hated not knowing what to do. You hoped he did, because if not, this was going to be a night full of awkwardness.

“_Well then, let’s get started!”_


	45. You Mean The World To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines!

You found it endearing that Alastor had to bend down to properly escort you, and if it weren’t for the feelings that began to creep upon the outskirts of your mind, you probably would have found it all the more amusing. It all felt so surreal and bizarre that you were going on a date with Alastor. 

Your stomach coiled in on itself tightly; tighter than you had ever experienced before. The nauseated sensation that grew in your belly and at the back of your throat had you swallowing harshly. Your knees were locked and, if he hadn’t been there to lead you down the bannister, to  _ help  _ you, you probably would have just stayed in that exact spot, in front of your room, for the rest of eternity. 

Knowing that you had the rest of eternity to spend down here anyway, it didn’t really take such a claim out of the realm of possibility. 

You were nervous, rightfully so. What did he have planned? What if you ruined it with your nervousness? Was this going too fast? Was this  _ right?  _ Did you make the right decision? What if it got super quiet and the two of you were left in what was an awkward silence? What if you said something you didn’t mean? What if you embarrassed yourself? You were a mess. What did he even see in you? 

You took a deep inhale, and released it in a quiet, shaky exhale, only to sneak a glance towards him out of the corner of your eye. You wanted to look at him, but you also didn’t. What if he caught you looking at him and called you out on it? 

You were immediately relieved to find that he looked cool and collected, looking forward and humming a small tune. You felt a semblance of jealousy that he could appear in such a way while you were internally freaking out. If he hadn’t been, you weren’t entirely sure you would last through the night. A rock for you to lean on, quite literally.

Without him there to lean on, you would have been even more of a mess than you were now, and  _ that  _ was saying something. 

Your fingertips grasped the smooth, cool texture of his sleeve, honing in on the feeling of it. It was bizarre that a person could be a source of comfort and anxiety at the same time. But perhaps he wasn’t the origin of said anxieties. Maybe you felt so small because all of this was way over your head. Maybe it was because you knew nothing at all. Yeah, that was it. You were as clueless as they came. 

You felt dazed and at the same time precisely aware of everything. Of the way his footsteps didn’t sound so forceful and attention-seeking as they often were, the way his humming had grown in intensity as if he were trying to drown out his own anxieties. As if he were trying to convince himself that it would all be worth it for having the chance to spend a night with the woman he cared so deeply for. 

There were two assumptions: Either he didn’t notice your gaze on him, or he had chosen to ignore it. You couldn’t help but acknowledge that his grin had turned to that famous one; a beast of habit, truly. You were also aware of the fact that time seemed to slow as you approached the entrance of the hotel. When the door was opened, the cold gust of air was both a shock to your system, as well as a reminder that… you had forgotten your jacket. So it hadn’t just been the nervous desperation. 

You had actually forgotten something. 

God damn it. You blinked, shaking yourself out of your wayward, betraying thoughts as you hesitated to leave. No. You couldn’t go back now. You were already out of the door. It would ruin whatever miraculous silence was happening, even if it had been brought up by nerves alone. 

You ignored the chill of the winter and messed with the sleeve on your free hand to pull it down further, allowing Alastor to lead you down the long, narrow driveway. The first thing you noticed was that, parked at the end, was the Magne’s family limousine. Secondly, you saw Charlie positioned at the driver’s door, adorning a black tuxedo.

There was confusion for a long moment as your mind fought to catch up in the moment, until Charlie noticed the two of you and grinned. Then the suspecting words left your lips as your eyebrows furrowed. “Is…” You whispered, your voice a lot weaker than you would have liked. Hesitant. “Is she coming with us?” Despite addressing Alastor, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

Too nervous. He made you nervous.

The idea of being watched was off-putting to you— because now if you did something embarrassing, god forbid, not only would Alastor see it, but Charlie would too. And if there was anything to be learned from big sister figures, such embarrassments would be used to later blackmail you. 

You highly doubted Charlie would ever dream of doing such a thing, but still _ .  _ Nerves. Maybe this was just how dates were. Maybe you were  _ supposed _ to be watched. What did you know? Apparently jack! Alastor could tell you some blatantly obvious made up fact and you would probably have believed him. The moment you felt his eyes on you, you looked to your feet, incredibly mindful so that you didn’t trip yourself up over phantom steps and the like. 

“She is going to be our driver this fine evening, as well as our server for dinner.” He paused. “I presumed that, because your emotions are still so raw and you seem to be perturbed by them, having a friend around might put you at ease.” 

He lowered his voice then, the words falling from his lips in earnestness: “If you ask it of me, I will dismiss her.” 

You swallowed your nerves to the best of your ability and nodded once towards his words; the smallest of smiles wrinkling your expression at his charm. The thought was what mattered, and it was comforting to know that if you needed an out (you hoped you wouldn’t), you could rely on her. 

At the very least, Charlie was a total babe and an awesome friend, and you didn’t particularly mind now that the reasoning was explained to you in detail. 

You prayed that you wouldn’t end up doing something embarrassing, because not only would Alastor see it, but Charlie would too. Speaking of, the blonde woman looked incredibly giddy at the sight of the two of you and that caused your blush to only intensify. However, as the two of you arrived towards the back of the limousine, she eyed Alastor, insistening silently that he did something that was entirely out of your concept. Your hand reached for the back door. 

But Alastor’s hand reached it first as his arm slipped from your grasp. You pulled your hand away from the handle in surprise, before a sensation of curiosity and amusement fluttered forth as he bowed low, opening the door for you. 

“My lady, your chariot awaits.” His eyes closed as he swept a hand in order to motion for you to go inside. 

The sound of Charlie giggling a bit behind you caused you to relax just enough for a silly smile to manifest upon your lips, the tension in your shoulders faltering as you crossed your legs and curtsied. It was hard to do such a thing as you weren’t in a dress, and you probably looked a whole lot more awkward doing it than if you would have had the experience. 

“Thank you, my liege.” You returned the gesture.

The world was a stage, and it was amusing to witness the moments you took such an idea as your own. 

Those red eyes opened to peek at you through dark lashes in amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkling as you stumbled into the vehicle. It was sweet how you acted at times. Funny even. A grand dame stock full of the loveliest forms of entertainment. 

The moment your knees hit the cushioning of the leather seats, you were immediately relieved that you had chosen to wear thermal leggings. Everything was cold, but the moment that Charlie had fallen into the driver’s seat, the heat was turned on the same moment the engine spurred to life. 

Your eyes fell upon a glass bottle of… something that you assumed to be champagne. It was your first assumption of the night, and you were entirely certain there would be many more to come. You weren’t all that keen on drinking on such an occasion if your presumption was deemed correct, especially after the experiences you shared with Husk. 

You were already nervous. You  _ really  _ didn’t need to worry about the aftermath of some poorly thought out hazy drunkenness. 

Repositioning yourself in your seat more comfortably, you watched as Alastor slid in next to you with far more grace than you had been able to muster. Which was exceedingly unfair considering how tall and lanky he was. No part of him was ruffled or rustled in his movements as he wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle, only to place a towel that you had not noticed before over the cork. 

“This, my dear,” he began as he opened it with a  _ ‘pop!’, “ _ is a very special bottle of sparkling rouge fruit.” He brought it closer to you so you could inspect it. Your eyes traveled across the labeling that had originally been hidden from view. Coincidentally, it said ‘No Alcohol!’ in the fine print. It all looked so fancy, so you gave yourself some slack for your apparently wrong assumption. 

There was a crystal champagne flute in his other hand and a deep red liquid was then poured half-way. “Normally these fruits are found in the Yunnan province of the East, located up in the mountains, but funnily enough, they grow down here as well.” He offered the drink to you. 

The Yunnan what now? 

You blinked at it, and then at him, and then back to the drink again. You wanted to question how he knew of apparently such fine things, but you decided against it. You knew that if you opened your mouth now to inquire about it, you would probably say something stupid. 

“Thank you.” You said bashfully, wrapping your hand around the glass and bringing it to your lips. You squinted into the bottle. It was red, but it didn’t smell  _ or _ have the consistency of blood. So you did your best to put away your speculation and trust his explanation. 

Slowly, you tipped the glass back and let the taste of the ‘fancy juice’ light up your tastebuds. It tasted sweet, deeply so with a hint of floral notes that hit the back of your throat nicely. There was a light acidity to it that kept you from wrinkling your nose at how sweet it was, and the carbonation left tingles in your mouth. It was wonderful. 

You were so glad it wasn’t blood. 

You hoped the red juice wouldn’t stain your teeth or anything, though. That would be embarrassing. “It’s good.” You pulled the glass away from your lips, looking over to him. He gave a brisk nod, and you realized at that moment that he had been awaiting your reaction before he poured himself a glass. Still though, you felt yourself relaxing further. 

“I am relieved to hear that. Not everyone shares my enthusiasm for exotic flavors.” He swirled the contents of the glass, admiring the way the liquid slid around. 

“Does that enthusiasm have to do with the drink, or me?” You blurted.

Charlie snorted from the front seat, and a deep blush formed on your face at the realization of what you had said. Charlie must have found you funny by how blunt you were. 

Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly, completely unaware of whatever joke had been made. “Was it something I said?”

It was more of an observation than anything as there was no doubt that Alastor was absolutely, one hundred percent enthused in you. ”Sorta.” You giggled softly, biting your bottom lip. Nervously, you trailed your fingertips across the rim of the glass. You just  _ had  _ to open your mouth. 

He hummed in thought for a moment as you tried to stifle your embarrassment by leaning your warm cheek upon the palm of your hand. His eyes were squinted in confusion before it was brushed off. “Regardless, I find much enthusiasm for both you and foriegn flavors.” He stated with a curt nod. 

“Together, it’s a perfect way to start off an evening!” He reached an arm around your shoulders, and the moment you felt such, a flurry of thoughts rampaged in your mind. 

You were nervous over the entirety of the date. The concept. The reality. You were going on a  _ date _ with  _ Alastor.  _ He had made plans for the two of you. Perhaps you could let your guard down and actually begin to enjoy such leisures. He had made a promise to not bite, lick, or harm you… to the best of his ability— You hoped that promise still stood. 

What a charming weirdo. 

Slowly, you placed the glass down and leaned into his side. There was an obvious stiffening within him that you could feel through the layers of clothing, and for a long moment, you wondered if you had fucked up. 

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Gingerly, you felt him relax alongside you, and you took that opportunity to shyly smile up at him. Then, as you leaned up quietly, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

“I think so too.” You whispered, before the sensation of his arm securing more firmly around you ushered your mind into a foreign, strange happiness. Your nervousness had begun to be eased out, slowly but surely. He didn’t respond verbally, but as you let yourself fall back into your original position, the minor movements of your locks of hair caused you to raise an eyebrow, especially when you heard an inhale.

Was he…  _ smelling _ you? 

There was a loud, high-pitched squeal from the front seat that caused you to nearly jump out of your skin, only to snap your wide-eyes gaze towards the origin of the sound. 

Charlie looked back at the two of you from the rear view mirror, and the heat that raced across your face at the realization that you two were very much  _ not  _ alone (how could you forget that?), you hesitated and started to peel yourself away from Alastor. How embarrassing. Before you could get very far, though, her eyes widened in realization and she shook her head rapidly. 

“ _ Sorry!  _ Sorry!” She cried out in an attempt to appease the situation. “I’ll just… yeah! Keep driving!” She flashed you a beaming grin, and you watched warily as a dark separator was rolled up. You were more worried over the fact that she hadn’t been watching the road than you were with her watching the two of you, but still. Privacy was always nice. 

When the dark glass came up, you stared at it for a long moment before releasing a brisk breath out of your nose. With it, you began to relax once more. There was a pressure on your head, still, and you squinted. The audible breathing, the feeling of his nose in your hair. “Were you…” 

“You always smell so sweet.” He interrupted. ”I am not normally so fond of sweet things, but I find there is an exception to every rule.” He muttered lowly, nuzzling himself into your locks.

You shouldn’t have found his movements so endearing, but you did. In fact, you were practically melting at his words. He was weird, but he would always be that way. In his own strange way, he was charming. He could have his moments. You remained quiet, allowing yourself to relax completely and in doing so, him to continue to mess with your hair. 

The  _ clink  _ of the glass being put into one of the many cup holders caused your attention to fall to his now outstretched palm as he returned it to his lap. Such intimate moments between the two of you were becoming increasingly frequent, and he should like to seize every opportunity to be close to you. 

Gently, you brought yours over to encase it in his. At least he wasn’t trying to shake it anymore. His hand was so much bigger than yours, completely able to envelop it should he have thought to do such a thing. Everything was so calm, and you found your close proximity to him easing your original nerves you had for ‘first date jitters’. 

“You know,” You started, softly, curling your fingers into the spaces of his. “I meant what I said.”

“And what would that be, darling?” His words were spoken so lowly that had you feeling the warmth of his breath in your hair. Oh wow, what was  _ that  _ feeling? Suddenly, your blush intensified at the change in tone, your stomach tightening and your fingers grasping the spaces of his more tightly.

“Uh,” You lost your words, suppressing the emotion to the best of your ability. 

“What did you mean, mon amour?” The last words rolled off his tongue in a purr, and you closed your eyes for the briefest time as you felt the pressure of his cheek atop your head. He enjoyed drinking in your closeness, feeling how soft you were, and the kind warmth your body offered. 

“When I said you were sweet, I... meant it.” Your eyes opened, and you looked at your drink idly. 

He let out a chuckle, the sensation of his amusement causing a chill to run up your back. “I wouldn’t let that get out, darling. My reputation could be ruined if people knew that I was actually soft on you!” He chided playfully. 

A smile danced upon your lips as you reeled in whatever you had just experienced. A clear of your throat, and light enough, you continued: “What’s that mean? The thing you said?” You inquired aloud. “I know what the other thing meant, uh, the ‘my dear’, but what about that one?” Was it French? Italian? Everything foreign sounded so fancy and the same to you. Wasn’t he from New Orleans?  _ What. _

There was a rumble in his chest that you could feel reverberated through his clothing. “Simply put, ‘mon amour’ means my love.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a kiss placed on the crown of your head. His hand squeezed yours and he pressed you harder into his side, not enough to hurt, but in a more firm hug. 

You blinked. “Mon uh… more?” You repeated softly. Why didn’t everyone just speak in ONE language? So complicated.

“Close enough. There’s a bit more rolling involved, but I’ve heard worse.” He replied simply.

That was good enough for you. Whatever. You knew what it meant now, and to say the least, it made your stomach swarm with butterflies.  _ My love. _ Your chest felt numb and fuzzy and warm and all sorts of good things you hadn’t felt before. 

Your heart was literally going to burst, you felt. “Can I show you something?” You leaned into him fully, then. He made you feel sick, but like, a good kind of sick. You wanted to feel more of this sickness. 

“Anything.” 

You smiled lightly, before bringing your still entangled hand to the area of your heart, where even now, you could feel it even more so than before, simply because your attention was now piqued towards it. When you reached that area of your chest, you let your hand untangle from his so he could literally feel your heart going absolutely crazy.

You felt the weight of his head upon yours let up as a sudden silence found its way through the vicinity, 

“C-can you feel it?” The way your heart beat for him? Your face felt exceptionally warm at this point, and you tried to peer up at him. Which was hard, since he was literally flat against your head. But you could try! 

He pressed a bit firmer into it, his eyes increasing in their luminosity, his grin growing in softness. “I do this?” He was at a loss for words. To have such a beautiful effect on you, it made something inside of him, that he had thought was long dead by now, spark back to life. 

“Ye- I mean, I  _ think  _ so. It only happens when you're around.” You softly laughed, your face warm.

He hummed, that sweet smile still upon his lips as he grabbed your hand then, and slowly pressed it through his layers, just bypassing his vest, so you could better feel the way you made his heart leap. Your eyes widened in such, before they softened in a way that they had never softened before.

“I didn’t know you had a heart,” you joked softly. “But I guess I was wrong.” And to be honest, you were glad you were. Ba dum, ba dum, the thrum of his heart fascinated you to no end. 

“No, my sweet darling. You were right.” He brought both of his palms to your head and pressed your ear into his chest. “This has never belonged to me, as it seems it only beats for you.” His eyes were shut, and he seemed to be lost in some pool of emotion. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.” He ended with a murmur. 

Your blush now covered the entirety of your face, the weight of his words putting a pressure on your shoulders as you took in his scent. “... I do?”

He hummed in affirmative. “You’ve shaken me to stone, little darling. It kills me that you might not have known even after all this time, that you mean the absolute world to me.” Slowly his arms wrapped around you like the friendliest of vines. 

You meant the world to him. You meant the world to Alastor, the  _ Radio Demon. _ Possibly one of the strongest entities in Hell to boot. “Can I ask you something?” You murmured, lifting your head from his chest, only to rest your chin on it to stare up at him. Your eyes squinted. “And do you promise to be truthful about it?”

“It’s quite difficult to keep anything from you anymore, but yes, little one, of course you may.” His eyes met yours. He closed the distance to press his nose into yours briefly before pulling away. 

“May I kiss you?” Your eyes squinted, the nostalgia of the words hitting you in the gut so fast that you nearly became breathless right then and there.

“Please do.” he murmured, craning his neck down to meet you. 

You hesitated for a moment, before you leaned up and softly brought your lips to as close to his ear as you could get, mimicking the exact thing that he had done to you before. “Thank you.” You whispered, your breath fanning across the flesh of his cheek before your lips trail down the curve of his jaw. 

He could cut a motherfucker with how sharp it was. 

Upon lining your lips up with his, your eyes fluttered shut as you pressed yours to his gently. You felt a sigh brush across your own, a puff of air being released from him as his right hand moved the strands of your hair away from your neck. In doing so, the coolness of his glove smoothed over the back of your nape to lightly grasp at it. 

A pleasant softness. He was getting better, you were also getting better. But just as you were about to part your lips to mold better with his, the car slowed to a stop. Times up. Seven minutes in heaven, more like seven seconds. 

_ Oh well.  _

You parted from him slowly, your eyes having been originally closed, now opened to look up at him with a silly smile. Your heart had never felt so warm than in that moment. 

The red sclera met yours as his gaze flickered across your lovely countenance. “Thank you,” he said your name with such reverence that it made your chest tighten with untold emotion. As much as you wanted to stay in that position with him until the end of time, your own thoughts lost in a reverie, you also knew that you had to part from him before Charlie got to you. 

Speak of the devil, you heard the driver’s door open, and then close. 

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to get off of him. He was so warm. “You always say thank you, why are you thanking me?” You whispered.

“For everything, you silly dear.” He placed his hand on your cheek, sweeping his thumb over your cheekbone. “For everything.” He reiterated. 

The side door opened and Charlie looked in with a beaming grin. “We’re here!” She proudly announced, before blinking at the obviously intimate pose you were sharing with the big bad Radio Demon. 

You pushed off of him immediately, flustered beyond belief. You should’ve gotten off of him beforehand, for fucks sake. You hadn’t realized you were so warm until the cold gust of air entered the vicinity. From your positioning, you couldn’t see where you were at until you picked yourself up and exited the limousine with a clear of your throat. 

The sight that greeted you didn’t hold a semblance of recognition in your mind until you got past the twinkling lights in the trees, the red carpet, and stairs that lead safely to the… pier. You were at the pier. 

Said pier looked to be magically extended and fixed up from the last time you had been there, and you spared Charlie a look. The pier had dark memories tied to them. What was he doing? You weren’t angry or anything close to that, but you  _ were _ confused. You also felt a sensation of fear at the thought of the deep water. A fear that you had not felt before now, and you had an inkling suspicion as to why. 

Charlie offered you an understanding look and said ‘trust him’ under her breath as she passed by you to close the door.

Well, if Charlie knew what was going on, you would trust her judgement. Charlie wouldn’t let anything happen. You were instantly relieved that she was there. The lake looked like it had a thousand lights dancing across the water, simply from the reflection of the lights in the trees. It was really pretty. There were lights also leading to a beautiful glass top table at the end of the fanciful pier. 

It looked so different. 

You looked behind you only to find that he was already at your side. Oh. You pushed a piece of hair out of your eyes and offered him a nervous, but gentle smile. If the two of you were going to fuck this up, you would do it together apparently. 

When you raveled your arm through his once more and led you down the red carpeting, Charlie walked a few paces forward and began to set the table. Next to the table, there was a bucket of chilling ‘fancy juice’. You wondered if it was the same type as before. A wheeled tray was next to her, steam emitting even from under the silver platter which covered the origins of said steam. 

Charlie’s hands were behind her back, awaiting the moment you two sat down, as she intended to serve whatever it was that Alastor had cooked. Ah, first date jitters. She remembered when she had first went on a date with Vaggie.

Alastor gallantly pulled out your seat for you, gesturing with his hand for you to sit. “Would you care to dine with me this evening?” His eyes would always speak volumes about his true intentions— and at that moment, there was nothing but fondness in them.

Your eyes squinted playfully. You weren’t sure what you were doing, but if he wanted to speak elegantly, you could try to as well.

“Why yes, my kind sir, I very much would.” You could play along. You wouldn’t curtsy this time because you sucked at it, but you  _ did _ allow him to pull your chair out so you could sit down. 

He pushed you closer to the table gently, before sitting himself across from you, and in true Alastor fashion, he flared out his coat tails before doing so. Elegantly, he crossed his legs at the knee. He was always so posh. “Charlie, if you would be so kind as to serve the first course.” He waved his wrist in a circle to summon the princess. 

“Well, of course!” She practically gushed, uncovering two plates and placing them in front of you. “I’ll be at the limo waiting! Enjoy your dinner!” She winked at you and wished Alastor good luck under her breath. 

Oh wait what, she was leaving? Your eyes widened slightly, opening your mouth to say something, but before you could, she had already whisked herself away. Slowly, you turned to look back at Alastor with a nervous laugh. He noticed your anxiousness; though, that wasn’t such a feat for you hadn’t exactly tried to hide it, either. 

You looked down at your food. It was steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus (which you wouldn’t touch. Gross.) But the other two? You couldn’t wait to get them in your mouth. 

The scent alone made your stumble growl in anticipation and delight. Not that it was any surprise,  _ he _ had been the one to prepare it.

“Should you need her to rescue you from my dastardly clutches, you need just to signal for her. She’ll be making sure I behave myself.” He mentioned, turning to look at his own plate. 

“It’s okay,” You said softly. “Your clutches aren’t all  _ that _ bad.” You looked behind you after a moment to see that the windows to the limousine were down. 

Charlie was staring at the two of you through a pair of binoculars. 

You gave her an exasperated look, which you were sure she could see from what she had on, and when you motioned for her to ‘go away’ by shooing your hand from below your seat, Alastor cleared his throat. 

“It’s alright, leave her be. Perhaps it’ll give her something to gossip about, and her beloved will stop trying to stab me in my sleep.” He rolled his eyes as he cut into his steak. 

“Vaggie what?” You turned around then. You didn’t want to always have to rely on Charlie. You could take care of yourself. Sorta. Anyways, that’s not the point. You began to cut into your steak. “I don’t need her to watch over me, I-” You stopped, averting your eyes from him and looking down at it. “I trust you.” 

“I am honored, truly.” He leaned forward, as if he was bearing his heart for you before he continued. “But she is also our server. She volunteered for the job as  _ Chesterfield _ has quite the meddlesome disposition, as you know.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, as he sipped at the bayberry juice. 

You nodded. If he wanted her here for himself and not because of your need of a support person, then that was fine. As much as you loved Charlie, you would probably not hear the end of it for years to come. For now, you could focus on the present, though. And in the present, you were cutting up the steak. You brought the fork to your mouth and popped it in, chewing thoughtfully. 

Unsurprisingly, it was delicious.

“You know, in my day, it was quite common to have a chaperone come along on dates to make sure nothing went awry.” Alastor began. “But then again, so much has changed on the surface since my time there. Television for one thing… The picture show seems to have captured the attention of all willing people into temptation visually.” 

His eyes drifted to the water and a sour look crossed his face before he broke into one of his usual grins. “However, broadcasts are still the way I most enjoy my news. There’s not as much imagination involved when it comes to those silly boxes.” He let out a few posh laughs, tossing his head back. 

He had always been a chatterbox, but you were glad for it, as you were sure the awkward silence would have made its presence known before long. His laugh was contagious, and you couldn’t help but release an amused breath. “Is that why they call you the Radio Demon?” Because he liked the radio? Or was it because he  _ sounded  _ like he had a radio filter over his voice? The static, the  _ radio silence.  _

Alastor’s laughs slowed as he readjusted in his seat, pushing himself closer to the table. “They call me the Radio Demon because of what happened when I first arrived in Hell. It is quite an amazing story, really.” He bit off the end of a spear of asparagus, not mentioning how you had pushed that bit of your plate to the side. 

“What happened?” You moved to bite into another piece of steak.

“I found myself in Wonderland. It is a dark, angry place, filled with the malice of old demons and monsters that had existed far before the Earth did.” He paused to allow you to process it. “Though, I was not afraid. I had been spawned with my microphone, and with it I was able to teach myself how to use my new demon form. It took only a few days for me to turn into my true self.” He tapped his fork against his plate, lost in thoughts of the past. 

“When I had figured that out, I was quite convinced the rest of Hell was going to be like where I had found myself. Imagine my surprise when I found most of the so-called overlords were so easily destroyed!” He released a dark chuckle. 

“Due to my unique power over radio waves and the like, I was able to broadcast my victories throughout the pentagram and beyond. When the chance came to be an overlord though… it seemed more like a hassle and I would much rather be left to my own devices.” He shook his head. “You can’t have very much fun when there are so many eyes watching you all the time.” He settled back into eating his meal. 

Throughout the entirety of his explanation, you had finished your steak. It had been really good, and your stomach was already warm inside. You now worked on the mash potatoes. That, too, was good. Honestly, all of his food was good. Slowly, your eyes crinkled as thinly veiled mischievousness became apparent. 

“What would happen if you ran across a Television Demon?” Was there even such a thing as a television demon? You didn’t think so, but you were just making fun. 

Alastor’s eyes darkened briefly, it had happened so fast that you had barely caught it. “There  _ is _ such a demon.” His smile twitched. “Vox. He is as pretentious as he is dangerous. He hides with the other overlords and makes pretend he is all powerful, when all he is able to do is brainwash demons who stare at him for too long.” A pause. “He is a vile  _ scum _ .” Alastor spat out through his smile. 

“Ah,” That was all you could bring yourself to say. “You uh, really don’t like this ‘Vox’ guy, huh?” You felt weird now, because you hadn’t known there was some tense… backstory. What, did he have a television head too? Ha! “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about it anymore.” You pushed a bit of your potatoes into your mouth. Awkward.

“It’s alright, darling, I assure you. He and I don’t see eye to eye on certain things and we’ve got quite an interesting history.” He moved a piece of steak to his own mouth. “That’s all to say, we despise each other. You were bound to find out one way or another.” He waved off your apology, it was completely unnecessary.

In fact, he waved off the entire unsavory topic, Vox was the least important demon in his life and would remain so. Other than himself, the most important demon in his life sat just before him.

You nodded silently. “... Is there anyone else I should stay away from? I don’t wanna get brainwashed. Or anything.” And then your eyes lit up almost immediately afterwards. “I have a true demon form, don’t I?” 

“Yes, of course you do, little sharkling.” He ignored your first question, because he would much rather spend the time he had with you discussing more pleasant topics. 

You noticed, but you didn’t comment. You understood. “Can you tell me more?” You leaned forward. If you had a demon form and he had seen it, it was only a matter of time before your curiosity found out. “And you have a demon form too? What do you look like?” You sounded like a child, the topic suddenly sparking your imagination. 

Everyone already looked like demons. How could someone possibly look  _ more _ like a demon?

“Well for starters, you have a rather impressive tail.” He cut into his steak for another bite. He finished it before he started speaking again. “It’s long. It was thrashing about intensely last time I saw it… Very similar to that of an eel.” He tapped his finger on the glass table in thought. 

“Your skin changed hues, and you had beautiful markings on your skin that made you glow! Your ears, they changed as well— They looked like little fins! They were oh, so adorable. Oh! And you finally came into a set of fangs. It was all so lovely, a true privilege to see it all. You even had little sparks coming off your hands! You are sure to be a very powerful demon when you come into your own.” He finished dreamily, leaning his head into his hand while he looked at you from across the table. 

Your imagination was running wild, eyes wide and bright as you listened to him. “So if it’s an eel, then why do you call me ‘sharkling’? I mean! You don’t have to stop calling me that, I just,  _ huh _ ?” You made a face, but you couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t stop him from calling you that. 

You had maybe begun to get used to it, and sorta kinda began to like it. 

“I call you that due to your teeth. They resemble shark teeth! But  _ much _ more attractive, I assure you. Along with that, your skin doesn’t look similar to an eel, but looks to be of the same texture as a shark… I could use you in the kitchen to grate some vegetables honestly. It is a wonderful gift!” He banged his fist on the table with a ‘ _ HA!’ _ , and a big grin spread over his visage. 

Goofy. That was the best way to describe him. “Uh no, I will not let you grate vegetables on my skin. That’s disgusting, Al!” You sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t try. 

Because then you would have to begin to question how he cooked his other meals. You put down your fork as you finished your potatoes.

“But darling! Say if I were to make sushi, shark-skin boards are the traditional way to grate the wasabi! Don’t you want to be a part of tradition?” He blinked his eyes at you as if he were saddened by your lack of enthusiasm. 

“Good thing I don’t eat sushi.” You made a face. Which was ironic, because you were some sort of shark, eel… thing in your other form. 

“You are so  _ picky _ . How can you live in such a way when there is a world of culinary delights to partake in!” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the entire world. 

“I dunno! I just, I… see something I don’t like, and then I don’t eat it. Piece of cake.” You stated smugly, before you opened a single eye. “That’s a phrase, by the way. I wasn’t saying that there was a piece of cake.” Man, cake sounded good right now. 

He rose a brow. “I don’t think I have ever met such a stubborn eater in all my time, living or otherwise.” He noted, pushing his plate to the side and eyeing the spot where Charlie was still spying on you both. 

“Guess it’s just something that you’ll have to grow to love.” You retorted.

A happy hum rumbled in his chest as he looked at you. “I suppose you’re right, mon amour.”

Charlie zoomed down to the pier, not caring in the least how much ruckus she was making as the wooden planks groaned under her. She came to a stop and grinned at you both. “So… It looks like it’s going really well!” she proclaimed excitedly. 

Alastor held back a sigh, but couldn’t stop the blush that colored his cheeks. You looked up at Charlie before nodding.

“Yeah, I’d think so.” You side-eyed the now blushy Alastor with a half-smile. And then you motioned for Charlie to lean down so you could whisper something. She eagerly bent down to hear whatever you were going to tell her.

She was so happy for you both. 

“Can you… uh,” How do you say this nicely? “Come back in an hour?” Your voice was soft.

She blinked, trying to process what you had said before stepping back. “Oh! Yeah, of course! Here’s your dessert!” She slid a piece of cake towards you and then waved as she actually ran away. “Have fun!” She shouted over her shoulder, giggling madly up the hill. 

Well, she could have done it a bit more under the radar. You cleared your throat, looking down at the really  _ big  _ slice of vanilla cake. “Can I take this home?” Suddenly, now that you were with him alone, you felt the sensation of nervousness begin to crawl up your spine.

“Of course. You can do as you like.” He leaned back in his seat, settling his hands in his lap. 

“Thanks.” You said lightly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. And then you leaned back too, mimicking him. So what now? You bit your lip.

“I was wondering if you would like to honor me… with a dance?” He asked lightly, trying to steel his nerves over. 

“I-” You couldn’t dance. But, you also wanted to try? You couldn’t be  _ that  _ bad, right? You just hoped that it wouldn’t be fast paced or anything. “On the pier? Won’t we trip?”

He grinned and stood. “Actually,” He started, and stepped over to the edge of the pier, and with one step he was walking on the water. Your heart beat gained speed, and not because of him this time. Because of the fact that he was on water. Water. Water was dangerous. 

“I’ve enchanted this little pond so that we may use this as our stage.” He noticed your uncomfortable expression. “There would be no chance of any danger.” He came around to your side of the pier and held out his hand to you. “I’ll make sure you remain safe.”

You stated at his shoes long and hard like you were waiting for him to just… fall in. But he didn’t. Slowly, you stood up, if only to get a closer look. “What— How?” You were at a loss. He had literally told you what he had done to it, but holy shit? He was standing on water! Was he nuts? He was already crazy, but this! Oh boy, what if you fell in? What if it only worked on him? You hesitated.

“Darling, whatever is storming about in your head, I assure you, no harm shall come to you as long as you are with me.”

“I’m scared.” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled kindly. “I understand.” He stepped closer and held out both of his hands. “If you put your hands in mine, we can start slow.” Music started to surround you both, a calming, sweet melody. 

Trust him. Charlie told you to trust him. He was asking you to trust him. You didn’t speak, but when you warily put your hands in his, you showed him the thing that you had said to him earlier. You trusted him. But you were still on the pier.

Alastor lifted your hands, taking you with them, lifting you up. In some strange way, the strain that would have been upon your muscles were simply non existent. His grip on your hands were firm but gentle, as he slowly stepped back, bringing you both over the water. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, Al-” Your eyes were widened, and you watched as the ripples up your feet didn’t touch you. The water was affected by you, but you weren’t affected by it. Still. What if something jumped out? Were there sharks in the water? If there was, would you understand them? Could you speak Sharkinese? Oh god.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I won't let anything happen to you. Try straightening out your legs.” He brought your arms closer to him, but you were still mostly curled up. 

Your heart was beating so fast, and despite trying to straighten yourself out, when he brought your arms closer to him, you took a quick step forward and practically latched onto him, unwilling to let go. You absolutely, positively refused.

“Put your feet on mine, little one. I’ll do all the footwork, you just hold on.” He settled his arms around you, as yours were now attached around his midsection. His arms were settled about your shoulders, keeping you pressed to him. 

With a shaky breath, your original thoughts and worries of hurting him by stepping on him were ignored, for as soon as he said it, you did just that, burying your head into his suit jacket, attempting to cover your face so you wouldn’t be able to see that you were on the lake. You needed to control your panic, first. Deep breath in. Breathe in his scent. Breathe out. You focused on his own breathing, just him in general. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

He started humming along with the music, his hands rubbing your shoulders in soothing motions as he walked you both in smooth circles across the pond. When he began to move, you held tighter, afraid that if he moved, it would detach you from him. But it didn’t. His movements were calm, and so precise, no falter in his step nor in his voice.

It was similar to that of a warm summer breeze, careless, effortless, and soothing. 

And soon enough, your breaths grew less audible, and after a few moments had passed, you began to let your stiff muscles relax. His suit jacket sheltered your vision, and it had helped, but it did get stuffy. Slowly, with your eyes still closed, you lifted your head back, let the jacket fall away from your face, before you pushed your head back to his chest.

It was a slow process, but eventually, you opened your eyes and your heart lurched at the sight of the pier. And then the water. But you were safe. With him. You were safe with him. You nuzzled your head into him, but didn’t let your grip loosen. Your eyes were open, though. 

Progress.

“Do you feel better, little sharkling?” His arm squeezed about your shoulders before sliding softly down between your shoulder blades. “Or is this too much for you at the moment?” 

“No.” You choked out, “No. It’s… okay. It’s okay.” You weren’t sure if you were telling yourself that, or telling him that at this point. “Just stay with me, please.” Your words were soft.

“I should like to never leave you, darling. And right now, I have no intention to.” The music continued to softly follow you both around, and soon enough, you both were just swaying at the center of the pond, all the lights reflecting off of the surface. It looked like you were dancing in a galaxy of distant stars, a land birthed of fantasy. 

You nuzzled your head further into his chest, uncaring if you messed up your hair. Your heart rate had begun to even out after a few more moments, and you eased your grip on him slightly. Now it was just fluttering at the thought of everything that happened. Everything that he was doing for you. It was all for you. “Al?”

He hummed in an affirmative, not wanting to break whatever magic was happening between you both. 

You hesitated. “I think I understand, now.”

“Understand what, mon chère?” he muttered softly. 

You buried your face into his chest, your face now burning. “What I’m feeling.” Muffled.

His arms squeezed you tightly before settling back into a more comfortable grip. “And that would be?”

Just spit it out, dumbass. “I think I like you.” God. You were a mess.

A laugh echoed in his chest. “I am so pleased to hear it, darling. I’m rather fond of you as well.” He dropped a kiss onto your head, and even though the position was less than comfortable, he held it. 

You nearly cried in relief. You weren’t sure why, but his words felt so much more meaningful, because now you were able to accept them. You weren’t entirely clear on how to do… this, but with him, maybe you could figure it out. 

Slowly, you took a deep, final breath, and loosened your grip on him completely. His lips were still on your head, and you didn’t want to mess that up, but you trusted him. If he said you wouldn’t drown again, you believed him. Perhaps it was stupid to, perhaps it was just naivety, perhaps it was something else, but you found yourself stepping off of his shoes. You didn’t plummet. 

You looked down then at both of your feet.

“Darling?” He whispered to the top of your head, his hands rolling softly over your sides. 

“Don’t let me go.” You whispered back.

“I would never.” He murmured. “I wanted to ask you something?” 

A light, questioning him escaped you. You didn’t look up at him, you were watching your feet still, but when you pushed on him so gently to get him to start moving, you remained fixed on his alone. You would follow him. It was easier to believe you were on ice. Yeah. Ice was a good way to do this.

“All I’ve done, I have done so for you. I don’t move the stars for just anyone.” He took a step back, and you followed. “And though this is all so strange and foreign, I need you to know that this will never stop me from trying to be closer to you. I fear I may never be close enough to you.” 

He hesitated. “I should never want you to be frightened of me as you have been in the past. So, in so many words, what can I do, so that I may make you mine?”

You nearly tripped into him. You stiffened against his body as your heart literally thundered, the air being knocked out of your chest.  _ What?  _ He had done so much to you, he had made you feel so small, so unimportant, made you forget who you were. He made you question yourself, he had touched you in ways that had scarred your psyche, choked you, stalked you, invaded your personal space, said things that he couldn’t take back, locked you in a closet, and god forbid the worst thing of all: Made you soup after you had wounded yourself.

But he had also tried so hard. He was  _ trying _ . It had always been because he had been trying. He had given you those stupid roses that died when you touched them, he had made you match during the New Years Eve party, he had thrown you a ‘welcome back’ party with those dumbass heart cookies and that stupid beating heart. He had made a damn board trying to figure out how to woo you over. 

He had made you a heart card. He had cooked for you, held your hair back, held you when you had a panic attack, put you back in your own bed so you wouldn’t be scared. He was learning, after all this time.  _ He was learning _ . And after all the shit he put you through, you were beginning to realize that he meant the world to you, too. 

You hadn’t realized you had been gripping him again until your thoughts had eased into silence. Leaning your head back, you looked up at him and searched his features for any signs that this was a ploy, but such a search turned out to be fruitless. You paused in your steps, which in turned caused him to as well. 

You stood on your tippy-toes and let your breath hover visibly in the air for a moment. “Just ask me.” Everything felt so surreal.

“My little sharkling, would you do me the honor of being mine?”

And just like that, he had kicked down your walls and you felt yourself growing warm once more. You raveled your arms around his neck, questioning, for a moment. He had taken your arms off of him, once. Would he do it again? 

You brushed your lips against his. “Yes.” You whispered.

You gasped as his arms wound about your waist tightly, only to lift you up and spin you around like a rag doll. The pressure upon your lips returned as he pressed them fully back, and you laughed as he continued to spin you around, even as he nipped your lip into his mouth with an enormous grin. 

In this position, you had instinctively wound your legs around his midsection so he wouldn’t drop you, your arms completely raveling around his neck as you parted your lips and allowed him whatever access he desired. If only to better mold his lips with yours—  _ whatever _ . For the first time, you finally realized what you felt with him, what you had battled with yourself on for so very long. 

_ Happy _ .


	46. Do You Like Penis Coladas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ Warning!⚠️: This chapter has explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk.

There were very few things you could prepare for in a place such as this, where monsters roamed freely and the shadows crept upon your six o’clock, ready to pounce. You could prepare yourself by training and practice to take on the tyranny of Hell’s head honcho’s, but this? This was… something that you doubted anyone could prepare for. 

With that said, you didn’t regret the decision that brought you to this moment, as you had somehow been pulled closer to Alastor, your giggles fading as he slowed from spinning you around. The world was spinning around you, the winter chill biting you even as his body attempted to offer you what he could of his natural warmth. For the first time, all of your worries seemed to float away as he turned into the sole individual you really cared about. 

You had even forgotten that you were literally standing on water. 

Your heart was already going a mile a minute, and god help you because that grin couldn’t falter from your lips if you tried. Your jaw hurt from the grin that was sure to have decorated your visage. _ Happy_. It was such a foreign emotion down here, but to encounter it, to _ feel _it, you were willing to go through the pain and suffering just to experience it once more. 

Here you were, wrapped in the arms of someone you had just devoted yourself to, even as he lightly lowered you back to your feet. At first there had been a split second of panic, but only for a second, for you had thought he would just laugh in your face and tell you to this was some sort of prank show. But he didn’t, and in that realization, you found yourself growing awfully fond of him. 

It was wicked how feelings could change, for a month ago you wouldn’t have cared if he had been a deer in headlights and got run over by a truck. But now you felt truly at peace with yourself for perhaps one of the first times since you had gotten down here. There were a lot of things you would change if you had gotten the chance to, but this wasn’t one of them, especially when he held you against him.

He lowered himself to place a chaste kiss upon your forehead. “Shall we go home, little sharkling?” A murmur, the softest of inquiries as if he too, were afraid of breaking this incredibly vulnerable and precious moment. Your cheeks felt so warm, even as the two of you stood in the bitter cold. 

A small nod was given in response before you gingerly cleared your throat, moving just barely to look up at him. 

“Isn’t Charlie coming back? I mean, I- And what about the food and stuff? The carpet? The table?” You caught yourself before you rambled too much, but you couldn’t help but voice your sudden anxieties. You wanted to prolong the moment as long as possible, and if you had to do that by rambling on and on for decades, then you would.

“You worry far too much, darling.” You felt him stroke his thumb over your cheek, before his hand came to rest just under your jaw, cupping your face gently. He quickly snapped his other hand, the sound sharp, and you watched as your worries literally disappeared, everything fading away as if it had been some strange but beautiful dream, save for the fact that you both were still standing on water. 

“Should you like to ride back with Charlie, it can be arranged, however, as you so dutifully noticed before,” he brought that hand to rest on his chest dramatically, “_I _ can get us back just as easy.” His eyes had been closed in the egotistical explanation, but peeked one open to look down at you once he straightened back up. “The choice is yours, my dear.” 

You were stubborn. Dreadfully, annoyingly stubborn, but you were also tired. Paired with that, you had never felt so… giddy and painfully aware of all that was around you. It hadn’t really set in that you were his now; that you had said yes, but there was no way to possibly bury the fondness you felt for him at that moment. Clad in his suit jacket and looking awfully dashing, you didn’t want to part from him.

If he brought you home, then that meant you would have to bid adieu until the next time you saw him, but if you stayed _ here… _You leaned into his grip gently, looking back up at him. You had learned. No point in wasting time on poorly made tables, again, y’know? But of course, there were no tables in view. It was just the two of you. 

“How?” You squinted, your voice soft, inquisitive, but suspicious in a sense. 

One moment you saw a movement out of your peripheral vision, watching as ‘Chester’ parted from Alastor and zipped across the water in a black blur of movement. The next moment, you were experiencing what felt like a tidal wave being washed over you. You felt like you were free-falling from the tallest peak, and upon stumbling forward with a “Holy—“, the sound of your shoes meeting solid ground quickly brought you back to reality.

You were on the patio again. 

“It’s easy as one, two, three, darling! Nothing to it.” Alastor chimed happily, just as you felt him tap you on the nose. He was blissfully unaware of the fact that you felt like you had been tossed into a tornado or… something similar. At least until you coughed out and grasped his form for some sort of assistance in weighing you down. 

It was similar to the time that Lucifer had teleported you, and something that you _ knew _ you wouldn’t get used to for a very, very, long time. “Give me some warning next time, _ please _ !” You cried out, “Holy _ shit.” _You wheezed with a disbelieving laugh. 

There was a moment of silence following that where you rooted yourself to the spot, easing up your grip as your disorientation faded away. But at the very least, you were glad to have solid ground beneath your feet. 

His brows rose in surprise at your amusing outburst. “I wasn’t aware it was such a rocky ride. Next time I’ll give ample warning.” His arm stayed locked about your waist as he positioned himself beside you, rather than in front you. With his free hand, he pulled open the door for you both. “Is it such a terrible way of travel?”

“No, I mean, I just…” You blinked, eyes looking around the lobby as you entered. Empty. How late was it? “I wasn’t really expecting it, uh, again.” Slowly, you side-stepped and attempted to lean your head on his side even as you walked, something that you had never tried, but here you were. 

“So quick. I guess you don’t remember your first time, do you?” Oh shit, wait, your brain short-circuited. You stiffened immediately. “Teleporting! I mean _ teleporting _. I uh, no, no, Al, it wasn’t bad. Not with you, at least.” God, you really needed to just… shut the fuck up sometimes. 

The date was over, why did you still have jitters?

Alastor hummed in response to your ridiculous mumbling. “Your mind is drifting, little one.” He paused. “What reason have you to worry about my first time moving about the planes in such a way?” His hand settled on your lower back, claws still firm, but not as dangerous as they used to seem.

“I’m just tired.” You murmured into his side. “Long day,” you reiterated, before you brought your arms up to try to wrap around his abdomen in a small hug, only to loosen your grip after a moment. “But it was a good day.” You smiled appeasingly up at him. 

“Then we should get you to bed. My favorite darling needs her sleep.” His arm tightened about you when you pressed your face so cutely into his side. It reminded him of a far off memory of his youth, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

At the very least, the nostalgia was warm, and it had a hum rumble in his chest. “It pleases me greatly to hear you’ve had a lovely day. I hope to bring you more in the future, sweet creature.” He whispered the last bit, only wanting the words to caress your ears, for they were only meant for you. 

What the fuck was it that made his whispering have such an effect on you? Your heart rate had picked up almost instantaneously, and you were reminded of when he had lowered his voice in a similar manner in the car. _ Ugh _. It felt good but bad and wonderful and terrible all at once, a tightness coiling in your stomach as heat fluttered across your face. 

You released a small ‘mhm’, hoping that he would just dust it up to you being tired, but you were wary that if you said anything at the moment, it would be far too stupid and embarrassing for you to recover from. But… who would you be if you listened to reason? “I like it,” you murmured into his side. 

For fucks sake. Was that boss music you heard?

He wasn’t quite sure on what you were praising, but regardless of what it was, it was lovely to hear such things fall from your dazzling lips. His thumb stroked sweetly across your spine, and his fingers twitched on your lower back, if only to indicate he was listening to you, and whatever thoughts you chose worthy to share with him. 

He made sure to watch you, especially on the stairs, with how you seemed to be blearily walking forward, a dazed smile on your charmed face. 

You couldn’t feel a damned thing but this warmth and happiness that shot through your veins at incredible velocity. It was different, and it was ripping you apart. Despite being exhausted, you couldn’t help but feel so painfully aware of everything. 

The crinkling of his suit jacket, the way his tailcoats swayed, the texture, the warmth he emanated from his body naturally, the way his hand was splayed across your spine. 

You know, it was almost similar to that time when you had kissed him.

That time when you couldn’t say no to him, when you didn’t _ want _ to say no to him. The thought of him leaving you to yourself after walking you to your room shouldn’t have hurt so bad, shouldn’t have left such a sour taste in your mouth. But it did. “Al?” 

“Yes, little darling?” he answered quietly.

“Can you sleep with me tonight?” You whispered, unsure and uncaring of how those words sounded. You wanted him to sleep in your bed. You wanted to curl into him and wake up with him. Your heart felt so warm and fuzzy and, honestly, you wouldn’t change a thing. 

Except if he said no, then you would change it so he said yes. 

Charlie and Vaggie slept together, was it so weird for the two of you to do the same? Still, you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your face. “I don’t want you to go.” You tried your best, alright? Give yourself a break. 

“What reason would I ever have to deny such a beautiful request?” He slipped his hand over your hip, pressing your sides infinitely closer, as his fingers carefully curled about your hip bone. A chill ran up your spine. “I would be _ honored _ to share such an intimate space with you this evening! Especially if the reason is due to you wanting to spend more time with me.” His eyes were shimmering with untold emotion, a dusting of blush spreading over his cheeks.

Cute.

You let out a breath of relief that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. And then, just as you found your eyes closing for the briefest of moments, only to breathe in his scent and presence, you lost yourself in the walk to the bedroom. It was quiet. Nice. It must have been a lot later than you originally thought it was— time flew by so much more quickly when you were having fun. 

The familiar door of your room soon greeted you. Slowly, you peeled yourself from him, but instead of letting his hand fall from you, you grasped it in your left hand, turned to face him, and brought it to your lips as a silly grin fell across your lips. Before you could see his proper reaction (you did catch a glimpse of a close-lipped, blushy smile though) you opened the door and stepped in, only to be greeted by the mess that Angel had made. Fantastic.

“Oh.” You blurted. “Uh… Angel was in here. I promise I’m not a slob,” Of course you weren’t. You had been a cleaner for the hotel anyway. Also— what were you even apologizing for? You weren’t the one who had a literal _ swamp _in your room. Still, you couldn’t help but bring your hand to rub the back of your neck awkwardly. 

“I am well aware. You are not the one who keeps a farm animal as a pet.” As if his opinion on the matter meant anything, he knew you adored that little mischievous creature. 

You looked back at him with a playful glare, “Don’t bring Fat Nugs into this, he hasn’t done anything.” You shook your head. “He’s cute! Have you even tried to… like, _ not _ eat him?” Your eyebrows raised in your accusation, but the softness that was in your gaze told an entirely different story. 

“I don’t eat pets. Even ones that are meant to be eaten.” He eyed you as he settled himself into your bed, dragging you to stand between his thighs.

You looked down to your intertwined hands for a moment, a nervousness suddenly sparking at the new position. Or perhaps that was just the butterflies. You were feeling a whole lot of things, to be quite honest. “Do you, um, need to get clothes?”

Alastor sighed. “You really should stop worrying about everything. I am able to change my clothes without moving, my dear, and can ‘snap’ most things into existence.” He demonstrated by snapping his fingers, as his clothes were swapped for his favorite pajamas. 

Your eyes flickered across the silk, your heart beginning to race at the observation that this was a similar stance to the last time… prior to the last time. Last last time? Whatever.

“Should you ever like to learn, I’d be happy to oblige you.” He pressed his lips to your forehead, and shut his eyes.

“I can learn to do the snappity thing?” You whispered, closing your eyes instinctively at the feeling of his lips pressing to your forehead. Your heart which had begun to race now soared. There was a moment of hesitance, before you brought your hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes. He had so much hair, you were jealous. So soft, too!

“You are just as capable as anyone else, though you would be required to put in the work.” His eyes remained closed, blissful, as you swiped his hair out of his face. 

“Says the guy who snaps for everything and complains,” you brought your hand down and pinched his cheek, “About doing anything remotely work related.” You rolled your eyes. 

His eyes opened briefly, only for him to grip your hips in his wide hands. “Go change for bed, little one.” He kissed your cheek, his lips lingering for just the briefest moment, before he withdrew his touch.

You were entirely sure that if your heart picked up anymore it would just… give out. You didn’t argue with him, curling your fingers into the spaces of his on each hand, only to let them go when you pushed him playfully back. Only then did you step away, go to the closet, and begin to sort through the mess there was. Thankfully, your pajamas were on the side that was practically untouched, but with an eight foot spider that had four arms, things were bound to be out of place. 

Aha! There they were.

Not offering him a glance, you grabbed the pajamas and entered the bathroom. There, you stripped out of your sweater dress, your leggings, shoes, socks, the entire thing until you were left with the red lingerie. Ah. Right. If something happened… _ If something happened. _ You squinted at your reflection in the mirror as you took those off too; your stomach clenching with some unknown but curious feeling. 

Your face was red, and you briefly wondered if you had been blushing the entire time. Biting your lip nervously, you put on your pajamas, brushed your teeth, and took a deep breath. In the silence, you were finally able to realize that you were… together. 

You were his, and he was yours. The thought made your breath leave your lungs, a soft disbelieving laugh escaping you. You could question all the ifs, hows, and whens, but right now you were feeling warm and giddy and… something else you couldn’t quite place. You just wanted to be close to him, that was all you knew. 

Opening the door, you stepped back into your room.

Your eyes immediately fell onto Alastor who had already nestled into you. It looked like he had summoned extra pillows and blankets, as your bed did not normally look so plush. He reclined on his side, and you laughed lightly. Anxiously. “Not enough blankets and pillows?” You murmured with as much playfulness you could just amidst your nerves. 

“There is never enough.” he muttered back, pulling back the blankets for you. 

Your fingertips twitched at your sides before you slowly began to walk over. Why were you so nervous? What the hell, man. He looked so comfortable and, ugh, _ adorable _. You were jealous that he looked so comfortable. You were rarely that comfortable in your own bed, Your mind was racing a million miles a minute. 

Before you joined him, you walked over to the switch for the wall light and then switched it off. There was a bit of light, but you could see enough for you to navigate towards the small lamp on your bedside table, you allowed the light to illuminate the vicinity. 

It was dim enough to fall asleep to, at least. 

Upon having that done, you rounded the bed and clambered in. “You know,” You whispered, as you tucked yourself into his side, “You were rather charming tonight.” You looked up at him. “So, um, thank you. I had fun.” You were particularly glad it didn’t end in disaster.

His arm settled comfortably around you, nestled into the curve of your waist. “I hope to bring you more evenings filled with joy, darling. I have much to make up for. Though, do know, you are most welcome.” He squeezed you, his hand starting to trace over your side noncommittally, without thought, just merely to trace your shape, memorize your form so that even in the darkest parts of his mind, he would know you. 

There was a calm surrender in that moment when you let out a small sigh, bringing yourself so you were laying on your side, facing him. Slowly, you brought your hand to his hair once more, combing it back once, keeping your hand locked in his tousled floofy hair and leaning over to press a soft kiss to the bottom of his chin. “You don’t need to make up for anything.” You murmured against his flesh.

“There is much I have to make up for.” He responded, his eyes turning to your ceiling. He thought about perhaps one day telling you of all the things he needed to make up for, particularly when it came to you. It was one of the few things in his life he felt remorse for— guilty even if he were to be honest. 

Should he have understood his feelings for you sooner, he wasn’t even completely sure that he would have been able to change his actions. He could hope, but he knew himself far too well. He turned his head, pressing his lips to your hair. Though for now, it was nice to think that he didn’t, though deep in his hollowed heart, and battered soul, he knew better. 

It was obvious that he was thinking about something, “Al.” You hummed, “I told you already, that I forgive you. Why—“ You brought your hand to mess with the fabric of his pajamas idly, upon his abdomen. “Why else would I have allowed you to make me yours?” You snuck a glance, a small smile beginning to form upon your lips. 

“I appreciate your forgiveness, darling. And it thrills me that you’ve agreed to be mine. For now, that is enough.” He said it all into the strands of your hair. Though in his mind, he knew it would take a long while for him to forgive himself for all the stress and pain he had caused you. 

All the mental anguish. 

In time, he was sure everything would be fine, as there was truly no better salve or balm, but for now, he would merely do his best to keep you happy and in the dark about all the things that he haunted still. 

While his thoughts were in a whirlwind, your own thoughts had quieted down. You were lost in the feeling of his closeness, the feeling of him. The proximity. And yet, your mind continued to trail back to Angel’s words. Your brows had begun to furrow. You weren’t even sure what you wanted. You just knew you wanted to be close to him, that was all. 

Instead of asking, instead of talking, you very, very slowly began to trail your fingertips down his stomach. You were waiting for him to tell you to stop, to tell you ‘not yet’, to have him crush your surprisingly filthy thoughts. 

He was drawn out of his dark reverie by his own giggle. “That tickles, darling!” He let out, unintentionally shying away from your hand. He quickly stifled the sounds that were fighting to leave him. “I hadn’t been expecting that, what is it you’re doing?” His eyes were locked on you once more, and the hand that had stilled on his lithe abdomen. 

The giggle was appealing, adorable even. You glanced up at him shyly after looking at your own hand for a long moment. “I uh, dunno. I-” That stupid, betraying blush had begun to swarm across your face. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t mean to stop you, I’m just curious.” He explained quickly. “... I have heard it is quite common for couples to explore each other, and I see no reason why we should be any different.” He said evenly, though there was a blush on his cheeks. Such a betraying expression. 

Explore each other. Yes. That’s what you wanted to do. “Can we?” Inquisitively, you brought your hand down and toyed with the end of his shirt, running your fingertips very gently across the skin just beneath. You felt the muscles of his stomach spasm into a tightness, as you felt his hand squeeze the curve of your side as if he were searching for an anchor in these new waters. 

“I see no reason why not.” His neck felt warm. 

Slowly, you sat up and leaned over to hover your mouth over his. You let your hand lay flat upon his stomach then, just to push yourself up further. You pressed your lips to his, closing your eyes. You ran your palm up his body, your eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of… scars? Countless. Innumerable. You were confused. He was painted like a canvas with them. You wanted to ask, but you decided not to. 

If you were going to explore, then you were going to explore.

Alastor remained still under you. You could feel the tension in his body easily. He was painfully aware of your body hovering over his, and how your fingers had flinched as they had felt the pains he had inflicted during his life onto others. You were touching his sins. His body was so tight, he was going to be snapped in half, like the twig you sometimes accused him of being. 

Slowly, you parted your lips from his. “Relax, please.” You pleaded lightly. You felt so warm. “Here,” you murmured, bringing your hand to gently lead his hand under your shirt as well. Instinctively, your stomach clenched. There was a shuddering breath and then a deep inhale, before you felt him begin to relax beneath you. 

And then there was a buzz of curiosity that fluttered through him. 

The pads of his fingers were pressing into softness, warm skin and muscle of your body, and a white hot spear of chills ran across your body in a wave of gooseflesh. He relaxed enough for it to not be so obvious that he was nervous, but he was too worried about his claws. With a quick movement of his free hand, his nails shortened, becoming blunt at the end. He let out a sigh as he pressed his hand a bit further up, feeling out the contours of your abdomen, the soft skin, and the welcoming feel of you above him. 

You didn’t notice. 

You pressed your lips lightly back to his, a shaky breath escaping your nose as you felt a heat rising in your belly that you had never experienced before. Your teeth gently grazed his bottom lip, pulling it out before letting it go teasingly. 

This was so silly. 

But it also felt incredible to explore him like this. To feel his hands on you, but you wanted more. Was it too much to ask for more? Exploration, but you were both nervous. Incredibly so. You parted your lips to better mold with his, your hand beginning to drift down to his waistband. You weren’t entirely sure if he would understand, so you decided to question it aloud: “Are you… is this okay?” 

At first you were met with a rolling of his hips into you, and you peered down with curiosity. He looked like he was holding back a groan, his face twisted up to accommodate such. Your heart lurched at the warmth that you felt; and you were pretty damn sure that if your hand had traveled down a bit further, you would have felt his aching need. 

“You worry too much, mon amour.” His lips sealed back to yours, and he finally released a groan into your mouth, his eyes shutting as heat flooded through him. You suddenly felt sick with passion as his hands were traversed the planes of your back. They traced your spine, counted your vertebrae, and cautiously, but with a subtle excitement, drifted down to your bottom where he gripped the soft roundness of your supple body. 

You let out a soft grunt as he pushed you closer to him. With it, a heat began to swell with intensity in your body; but it wasn’t an uncomfortable heat. It was a warmth that made you crave him in a way that you had never craved a soul. A feeling that you wouldn’t mind getting to know. Your kisses only grew in fervor, and in a blazing silence, you opened your lips to hesitantly run your tongue across his bottom lip. 

And then you let your hand fall beneath the band of his pajama pants, the texture of boxers greeting you firstly, and then the hardness of a very proportional and _ warm… _thing. You stiffened against him for a moment before curiosity bested you and you trailed your fingers across him. You felt his hips jerk in response to the feather-light touches and you smiled lightly into his lips. 

It was only when you actually slipped your hand into his boxers did you feel him appropriately, and your mind nearly rebooted right then and there. Holy fuck. Shiiit man. He was already hard, even as you gently grasped his cock in your hand. It was so warm; the beginnings of precum already easing your motions as you felt him up. 

When his own tongue traced your lips, carefully, experimentally in a boldness that he had lacked with you for quite a bit, you parted your lips and allowed him to slip into the cavernous warmth of your own mouth. Your own tongue attempted to dance across his, the two of you trying your damnedest to get through the thick fog of your minds. His breath was shaky, albeit, yours was too but you decided that meant that your movements were actually affecting him. With each stroke, he would release another against your flesh, which left you to realize that he liked it.

Alastor liked you touching him in such an intimate manner. 

If that weren’t enough for you to feel a wetness begin to pool between your thighs, you weren’t sure what was. You felt one of the hands slide across the smooth texture of your nightgown, and in a way that reminded you exactly who it was you were feeling up, a growl was released into your mouth. The sound was met with the sound of fabric ripping, and you stilled above him for a moment. Holy shit.

What did _ that _come from? 

Of course, even as the temperature of the room met your skin, your nightgown now ripped down your back and barely clinging onto you, you couldn’t help but find the scenario all so… silly. It wasn’t funny, no, but it was more so your nervousness that sparked a giggle to leave your lips as she pulled back to take a much needed breath, a string a saliva still connecting the two of you and glistening in what light still originated in the area. 

You were panting.

He was quick to silence them with his lips molding back into yours, and that same heat sparked up again, nearly unbearable at this point. You wanted him to touch you. You _ needed _ him to touch you. With your other hand, you reached back and led his hand to your thigh; in which his own stilled for a moment before trailing up in some elegant pattern. 

Finally. You released a soft sigh of relief against his lips as he got closer and closer to where you actually wanted his hand. Your legs instinctively parted more in a more comfortable reposition, just as his fingers completely disregarded the fabric that covered you and immediately went to trace the softness of your sex. 

He could probably feel the heat like you could feel his, and most certainly feel the slick that had accumulated. You found yourself rolling your hips, because he had yet to actually feel you completely. And then, as he ducked your bottom lip into his mouth, he parted your sex with his fingertips, slipping them through your wetness with a heated groan. 

You couldn’t help but gasp against his lips at the new and incredibly sweet feeling. Your grip had subconsciously tightened around his cock as you tried to reel in on the feeling, and his hips jerked forward, rutting into your hand with fervor in response. His eyes flashed open then, bathing your face in a beautiful red light; casting a particularly sinful glow upon you. Absolutely ravishing. 

His fingers kept tracing upwards, when he felt a tiny bit of hardened flesh, and when he started focusing his efforts there, trying his best to ignore your own actions on his body, you let out a “fuck,” against his lips, your eyes closing for a moment. The warmth of him. The twitching. The slickness of yourself. The calloused texture of the pads of his fingers dragging across you in such a new and lovely, heated, warm way. You were going to Hell for liking this. Except, ha, you were already in Hell.

Your thumb trailed across the tip of him as you focused on the feeling. You were having trouble keeping your thighs spread for him. 

In fact, you felt like you were going to collapse. You didn’t trust your body, you felt so shaky and weak suddenly, even as heat began to shoot up your spine, spurred on by each time his thumb caressed your clit.

His fingers drew forward, slipping easily into your channel, and trying to massage you open, while his thumb remained trained on that precious pearl of nerves, rolling and pressing in such a lovely rhythm. 

He wanted to see you fall apart. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips. He wanted all you could give him. 

Your head fell as you battled with yourself on making sure that you kept up your movements, and the feeling of him slipping his fingers into you. So deep. So good. So good. A lulling moan escaped your throat; an entirely new sound that you had never made before. 

You didn’t care. 

You didn’t care if anyone else heard you. You didn’t care what you looked like. You didn’t care about his eyes on you, _ you didn’t care. _ You were completely and utterly focused on his fingers dipping in and out of you, the lewd, wet noises that made you struggle to keep quiet. Your skin buzzed, as sweat began to form on your forehead and the back of your neck. Everything was buzzing. 

You were parted from his lips enough then, and you dropped your forehead to his chest as your hips subconsciously thrust into his hand, unintentionally slipping his fingers deeper into you. ”Al…” You moaned out against his chest, thankfully muffled against the fabric as you gasped out. 

Your breathing had started to become audible. Your pace had slowed on his cock, unsure of how to properly do it. You were having a hard time concentrating on anything but the pleasure. You had never felt pleasure like this. It was your first time, you didn’t know how to be in tune with your body and his at the same time. 

You were focused on the sparks that were flooding your skin. For some sort of anchor, you pulled the fabric of his shirt into your lips and bit on it. It didn’t last too long in your mouth. You needed him to feel what you were feeling. “Ah, mmn, _ please _—” You let such begs fall from your lips as you forced yourself to grip his cock again and begin to stroke it once more. It was warm, everything was warm. Hot. So hot. 

Everything felt so hot, and there was heat pulsating up your thighs as you panted against him. You were pretty sure you had begun to drool against him, too.

In his head he was thrumming through all sorts of information he had thought he wouldn’t need over the years. All for one sliver of information. He curled his fingers, and started rolling that spongy spot inside you, his thumb continuing to roll your clit under. He was bucking into your hand, trying to meet your strokes, while still trying to focus his movements, but fine motor skills were so difficult at the moment. 

You were biting his shirt, and your nightgown was barely clinging to you. The blush now covered the majority of your neck at this point. You were a blushy, sweaty mess.

He’d much rather have your mouth biting into his neck. “Go on, mon amour, _ cum for me. _” It came out harsher than he had intended, a gravelled whisper, a command, his fingers pressing you open, filling you as much as he was able to while he worked you over the best he could. 

But you fought yourself the best you could, even if you humored the thought, then you would cum. But you desperately wanted him to cum with you. Shakily, you gasped out as if you hadn’t breathed in a long time. It was so hot, so hot, so hot, too hot. No, you wanted— _ needed. _You brought yourself up just enough so that you could rest your forehead on his even as his fingers picked up their pace, the lewd sounds filling the small vicinity of the room as you panted against his lips. 

Your back was stiff, and you did your best to hold out. But you couldn’t for long. The heat in yourself was almost too much. “Mnno. Noo.” You sounded confused, drunk, as if you were telling yourself to hold it out a bit longer. “Together.” You choked out. It was all you could bring yourself to say in your broken speech as you focused your attention _ somehow _on both the building knot of pleasure in your stomach and on getting him to his breaking point as well. You released an open-mouthed moan against his lips as you picked up your pace, the feeling of his own pre-cum making such a thing easier. “Please, please, please…” your words were so feverish as your hips rutted into his hand. So close. So hot. So good.

You were begging him to cum _ with _ you.

His eyes shut, as his hips lost all control, his fingers dancing inside you. He needed you to be pulled over the edge, because he could feel a strange tightening sensation between his legs, all focused upon his cock. It was like every pore in his skin was spitting fire as he wildly bucked his hips into your sweet grip. His own fingers inside you were straining not to lose focus, even as your body hovering above his was writhing so beautifully before him. 

But alas, try as you must, you weren’t able to hold out as long as you had hoped. Your eyes closed as a wave of pleasure swam through you, and you didn’t bother to close your mouth as you laid your forehead on his. It was so wonderful, so good, so filling, so warm and relaxing, even as stars danced behind your eyelids. 

Nothing mattered more in that moment, even as your grip on him stuttered as you focused on the orgasm that fluttered through your mind and body. “Cum for…” you began to heave out with each breath, “cum for me, cum for me, please, I—“ You weren't even sure what you were saying at this point, really, you were just repeating what he had said to you. 

He was panting below you, gulping in air that suddenly seemed so thin as heat overwhelmed him. His back felt tight, his thighs screaming at him for how wildly they were trying to meet your hand. A sweet siren song though finally broke through his haze, his own personal goddess, pleading for him to _ cum for her _. It happened so suddenly. 

He buried his head into the crook of your neck, and let out a whine as a spear of tingling fire shot up his spine, his hips slowing, as they jerked into your still kind grip, once, twice, three times more as you milked him for all he was worth. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, but he would be damned if he was going to move either of you from this entangled precious mass of limbs you both had become. 

You were heaving as you came down from that wonderful high, the heat burying you into a land of warmth and goodness and _ peace. _

When he buried his head into you and released his tension into your hand, you let go of the weight in your arms and collapsed into him in a bout of exhaustion and a daze. You were panting in his ear as his head still remained in the crook of your neck before, slowly, you let his cock go and escaped his boxer briefs, completely ignoring the fact that his cum was still on your hand. 

You brought it up along with your other arm, and wrapped your arms around his neck in a clinging motion. His hair tickled your face as you let your own head fall to his shoulder, completely limp in his grasp. 

It took him some time to fall back into his physical body. For a magical moment, it had been like he had the lovely privilege of watching the entire situation from a prime spot on the wall, as you both had curled around one another, reaching the same state of blissful being.

His hand withdrew from your body, slowly, and with care. He never wished any harm on this precious gift that rest upon him in such glorious vulnerability. With a quick twirl of his fingers, he had cleansed you both, replacing your nightgown with a red one, and his own pajama pants with something that had been freshly laundered.

His arms then came to settle softly about your waist, wishing to keep you close in this delicate moment. Finally his breathing had slowed, and his wits had returned to him. It all left him to bask in the gentle glow of his first release, his first physical experience that laid him bare so to speak. 

An airy lightness filled him as he held you tightly against his body.

You clung to him like a leaf would to a branch, as you tried to reign in on the stimulation that you had experienced alongside him. Your breaths had shallowed as time went on, a few moments that seemed more like an eternity than anything else. You were completely sprawled across him at this point, your legs entangled in a glorious, happy knot.

As your cheek rested against his shoulder, your head faced towards his neck, your fingers had begun to idly play with the shorter, darker hairs that were so often hidden from view. You wondered briefly if that had been his original hair color during life. The brown. But you didn’t question it. You were too lost in your own relief that you barely even noticed when he changed your nightgown. It had been your first time as well; the release. 

The orgasm that had made your mind practically reboot from scratch. For a moment, you were worried about not remembering anything that had happened, but you did. 

You remembered everything. 

His hands were rubbing soothing circles into your lower back, a lazy smile sprawled across his lips as the weight of your body brought him more firmly back into sweet reality. One of his hands drifted to carefully sweep his fingers through your hair. The pads of his fingertips pausing at the base of your neck to trace sweet patterns there. 

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had begun to close as you felt his soft movements against your body. The patterns to your neck were indecipherable, but they didn’t need to be decipherable to begin with.

He was loathsome to break the careful silence that had built in this fragile a moment, but no moment was better to share his thoughts, then after such a personal exchange of vulnerability. 

“There are few moments I shall remember more fondly than this, my precious darling,” He stated those words with such saccharine sweetness. 

The moment his words fluttered from his soft, surprisingly kissable lips (who knew?), you were anchored into your own body once more. It took you a moment to properly process the meaning, and you really didn’t have many words that you _ could _think of. 

Instead, you slowly brought your head closer to his neck and buried it deeper into the crook of it. You stopped teasing the smaller, thinner hairs at the back of his head then and took in a deep, audible inhale. A curious hum reverberated in your throat, as you tried your best to piece together your thoughts. “Thank you,” A whisper.

Tiredly, you pulled away to look up at him. That blush still covered your face. “For knowing when to shut up.” You breathed out a soft laugh, your eyes crinkling. And then you leaned up, suddenly aware of everything once more. But all that mattered, in that moment, was him. You rubbed your nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

A happy hum reverberated within his chest, his eyes shutting in the happiness that flowed so easily through him. “Thank you for finding such a pleasing way to keep me quiet.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips, his nose nudging into your cheek with the action. 

“Thank _ you _for tonight, Al. Not just this, for um, everything.” You were having trouble accurately voicing your thoughts, your eyes shutting instinctively at the small kiss to your lips, and you kept them closed for a moment too long as you fought with yourself to keep awake. “For everything.” You whispered against his lips. 

“You are more than welcome, little one.” His voice was just as soft. “Go to sleep, I shall recite you one of my favorites, should it please you.” His eyes shut as he pressed his forehead to yours, not being able just yet to get enough of such intimacy. 

You were more than happy to just fall asleep on him, literally. You had never felt so peacefully tired before, exhaustion flowing through you like a soft cloud instead of a sucker punch to the gut. 

Everything was so nice. So warm. He was so warm. You didn’t even really contemplate what he had said, just giving an agreeable hum as you went limp in his grasp, your head sliding down to nestle just beneath his chin as one of your arms draped across him, while the other remained on his chest. 

And then you were asleep in record timing. 

He cradled your resting form close to him, basking in the warmth you offered without thought. In one of his many nights without rest, lost in thought about the very person resting upon him, he had fallen upon an old crutch. He had started writing poetry again. 

It had been a habit from his time alive, but rather than etching violent surges upon paper this time, he had been more inspired to write about the emotions and thoughts you stirred within him. The ones that were new and unknown. 

His hand held the back of your neck as you found slumber wrapping across your limbs and dusting through your mind so peacefully. His eyes were focused on the top of your head, and the luscious hair that you had. His eyes had been soft, crinkled around the edges as he smiled with closed lips, his brows upturned in warmth, and in happiness. Quietly, because there were times he did not know when to be quiet, he started to recite one of the first poems he had written in decades. And it was all because of you and the happily curious things you stirred within him.

“_ The moon and sun have danced eternal _

_ Sweetly chasing each other’s embrace _

_ Though one’s inferno _

_ May threaten the others kindly face _,” 

His voice was soft, and comforting like the fall of waves upon a distant shore. The only thing he was able to muster for you in this moment was the tenderest of looks as he admired your sleeping visage. 

“_ It is such that lovers find themselves _

_ Chasing after each other with hope _

_ Sometimes even finding forever _

_ In the throws of fate’s red rope _,”

In his mind, there wasn’t much left to explain why he was so eternally drawn to you. There had to have been fate woven about you both like some beautiful lace his mother used to wear. He carefully pulled the hair off of your neck, as he continued to watch you so softly. His voice didn’t waver, and remained smooth, like a stone that had been worn down by a river. 

“_ It is such that I love thee _

_ Always chasing the hope I find within you _

_ I can only wish that one day _

_ You might store some affection for me in your sinew _,”

His hopes and dreams lay spread at your feet, and in this particular moment, he did not worry as to whether you would tread on them. Your footsteps were always far too light to ever cause him any real harm. So he treasured this impenetrable moment, where everything was perfect. The pads of his fingers continued with their gentle ministrations, nonsensical patterns being traced onto the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“_ Your bones and tendons, and the supple skin covering, _

_ I have found no greater work of art in tact _

_ I should like to remain with you always _

_ So I may trace my fingers across the delightful arch in your back. _”

His other hand did just that, tracing over your spine as such lovely breaths spilled from your lips. This moment would forever be burned into his mind. He had never felt the sensation, the honor, of having someone so loved by him fall asleep in such a way near him. It was the ultimate show of trust… of faith. And as his final stanza left his mouth, the room returning to calming silence, he hoped that nothing would ever ruin it. He hoped that _ he _ would never ruin it. 

He closed his eyes, his ever-present smile still soft, and found his peaceful rest for the evening with you.

And you were, in his mind, right where you belonged. 


	47. This Has Been A Public Service Announcement

The following week had, from what you could recall, gone smoothly enough. 

It wasn’t a matter of not _ remembering_, but instead, where it had once been so easy to decipher the main points of the day, it had now blurred together in a mosh pit of events. Not only was it because it all felt so incredibly surreal; but you felt as if you were in some sort of cryptic fairytale instead of… Hell. Because of that, you had a particularly difficult time believing any of the events had actually transpired.

On the first day, you and Vaggie worked on that new, nifty computer of yours to create a map. It was harder than the two of you originally thought, mainly the process of setting it up and accessing the internet. To do so, you needed connection, and you had to actually bother going down to the basement to where the router was. The candles that you and the moth demon held the only source of light.

It was strange how despite the electricity reaching down into the confines of said basement, there were no actual sources of light. You didn’t ponder on the thoughts for long, as the task had been completed quickly enough. Vaggie had gone up the steps first, and while such a thought was completely ridiculous, you had found yourself looking behind you a few times into the gaping darkness, just as your anxiety flared up. 

It was a childish instinct to get into the light before the monsters you made up in your mind could catch you and hold you captive. Because that was just silly! It would also be breaking and entering as the monsters that your mind feared already roamed the streets. The two of you returned to your room quickly enough— Vaggie found it amusing how you had been so eager to get out of the dark, clammy, cob-web strung up basement and into the warmth of the hotel. 

You were endearing. 

You remembered a few things about the computer, but this was much more than you had ever thought possible. It was either that, or the computer Charlie had purchased for you was just, you know, _ really _ fancy. Accidentally, you had used all of the paper in the printer—which was a lot. Charlie didn’t seem to mind, or perhaps she just didn’t have the capacity to. Her own thoughts were completely set on making her dream a reality. The more flyers, the better!

On the second day, with a few flyers, Alastor had gone with you to Allie’s shop in which she genuinely seemed surprised to see the two of you, mostly you though. When she saw Alastor, you wondered briefly as to why she hadn’t been a turtle demon; for you could literally see the seven foot alligator retreat into her shell. In all honesty, you had missed her. 

You missed the scent of the store, and how she gave out those candy apple lollipops. It filled you with a sense of nostalgia.

She had inquired lightly of how she could help you, and before Alastor could make up an excuse or say ‘just looking around’ (which you were not doing), you kicked his ankle. Even then, the true reason for your visit—an apology—wasn’t really an apology more so a shitty, cryptic explanation. You hoped she understood that he just apologized like some asshat diplomat, without actually saying the apology and skirting around the problem for fifteen minutes with witless exposition and flair. 

Perhaps the flair bit was just Alastor though.

At the very least, it gave Allie a bit more light into the situation and, in doing so, she allowed you to post the flyers in her store. 

The third day, Alastor had gone to Wonderland for an hour and returned without a sleeve, tousled hair, and some sort of green... goo that was bioluminescent against the dark color of his shoes. He hadn’t explained what had happened to him and you weren’t too sure that you actually wanted to know. Vaggie nearly had a conniption when he trekked that goo through the entirety of the hotel, even though Niffty had been there instantaneously to clean it up. That was a whole day in itself, and you conked out soon after that shit fest occurred. 

The fourth day, you awoke to see that Angel had somehow been roped into helping decorate the hotel for… something that Charlie wouldn’t explain. Angel complained the entire time, but eventually, after about an hour of such, Charlie forced Husk to help out as well. That shut Angel up. She had a beaming grin on her face while she watched the two “doing their best” while hanging up streamers and ribbons. 

The fifth day, you had distributed the flyers to the best of your ability, going to the store fronts and posting them on the doors, and inside if the demons didn’t mind. It helped that you were working for Charlie, because when you mentioned her name they seemed much more agreeable. 

And then, when you came home, it was revealed that Charlie was going to throw an open house welcoming party. She always seemed to have a knack for not warning anyone about her plans ahead of time, but at least it wouldn’t be _ that _night.

All you could do now, was wait. 

For the past week, Alastor too had lost all track of time. It wasn’t that different from how he normally found himself, with the… time keeping at least. But rather, he found himself incredibly fond of awaiting the night. As when the outside would become dark, you would seek him out like some lovely creature of the light, as if he were your nightlight. 

Each night you had curled into his side, pressing your gentle warmth into him, and he would find such peace in the rest he shared with you. It was lovely. There was nothing he could have done to improve those moments, as it was you who completed them in his mind’s eye. 

He found himself in that similar situation that was becoming all to familiar with him now. You were still sleeping, your face pressed to his chest, and your hair haloed behind you; spread across his linens and pillows while the crickets in the swamp slowly became more and more active in the morning mist. He took pleasure in watching you: the subtle twitches of your brows and the slight quivering of your lip that signifies that you dreamt.

Said dreams had been sweet; which was a rarity to be found in a place such as this. But with the comfort that emitted off of him in lulling waves, an odd thing considering Alastor was probably the last person anyone would _ ever _ think to be a comfort, it had become increasingly common. To think- it was once because of him that your dreams had once been so dark and haunting.

But now they were soft and soothing, and day after day, you woke up with the best sleep you had ever gotten. You’d wake up in his arms, breathing in his scent, and to make matters even better, there was no longer that instinctive panic when you did. At first it had been weird to do, hell, it _ still _was weird, but it was getting easier.

When you did awake, your fingertips twitched as your muscles awoke from a night of rest, which unfortunately alerted him that you were indeed coming to. Your eyes fluttered open, and the moment you were greeted with the red light of morning, you let out a grumble and tried to grab the blankets and cover your head with it. You succeeded. Briefly.

“Darling,” You felt his arm squeeze about you. You buried yourself further into the blankets. “It is time to start the day.” His head dipped down low, not that you would notice, as you had only become aware of his insistent behavior as it followed your’s under the blankets. 

His eyes became the source of light under the sheets. “It’s the little soiree Charlie is throwing, isn’t it? You know, this would be our first party we’re attending as a couple, I would have thought you would be excited!” He poked you gently in the side. You reached over to his hand and very lightly slapped it away. 

You were too tired for this. What time was it even? 

You huffed and made a disagreeable noise. _ Too tired _. Knowing that he would just get even more annoying (simply by knowing him as a person) to get what he wanted, you opened your eyes and somehow navigated beneath the blankets to push yourself up to plant a very small, incredibly lazy kiss upon his lips. “Five minutes.” 

Maybe ten. Twenty? An hour. 

“No, no, no.” He started. The sheets suddenly flew off the bed, coming to rest lazily atop you both, letting the light stream in. You nearly hissed, blocking the light with an arm. How rude. 

“Last time your five minutes turned into thirty, and we were late for that silly manager meeting of yours! Come on now, dear. It’s time to rise.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and finally rose himself. The bed freaked under his weight. Only when an annoying snap filled the room did you peel your arm off of your eyes and slowly adjust to the light.

He was already clothed in his normal attire and straightening himself out. You stared at him with a grumpy expression. You were not a happy riser. So maybe you wouldn’t rise at all. With that bright idea, you let his words go in one ear and out the other as you turned to face the other wall, curling yourself into the blankets. 

“‘Night.” You murmured as you brought the blankets back up to you. 

A heavy sigh left him. Every morning, without fail, was like this. Utterly impossible, is what you were. 

“Darling, come now, we have been through this every day this week. Come on. It’s time to greet the day and see what is in store!” He was not used to having such creatures in his bed, but he was learning to adapt. He attempted to pull the blankets away from you, but your grip only tightened around them. The audacity! 

There was an exasperated huff. “We _ need _ to get up.”

You could tell by his tone alone that his patience was waning. But who would you be if you didn’t make it difficult for him? You clenched the blankets in your fists even tighter. He could literally WWE Smackdown you into the ground if he so chose, but you couldn’t help but test the limits. If he was going to force you out of bed —at the ungodly hour of 11:45 am —then you weren’t getting up without a fight. 

You tugged it back harshly, narrowing your eyes playfully once you did actually open them. “No.”

A harsh exhale left his nose. This was absurd. You were absurd. “Darling, why? Each time we do this, I need to wash my linens!” They always ended up falling into the swamp water. “Good heavens, why do you insist on being so stubborn!” Though there was a hint of laughter in his voice, as he kept trying to delicately pull his blankets back over to him. 

You didn’t respond at first, instead sticking your tongue out at him, your fingers grasping desperately at the bed as if it were your lifeline as you were dragged slowly down. “Why do you insist on waking me uppp?” You mocked, blowing a raspberry at him loudly. You tried to yank the blankets back, even though you knew your chances were near impossible. You weren’t even that tired anymore. 

You were just doing this to get on his last nerve, and from the looks of it, it was working.

“You _ told _ me to!” He let out in an aggrieved groan. Each night you asked him to wake you because he had no alarm clock, and each morning he was repaid by you doing this. “Please, darling, I am _ begging _ you, please get up.” He didn’t have the right constitution for this. 

And then, when you saw him narrow his eyes and literally fling himself back onto the bed, his lean legs assisting in helping him kneel over you, you knew you were in for it. Aw fuck. Now you were suspicious. You had a right to be suspicious, okay? That wicked expression didn’t look good.

“You asked for this.” He muttered, almost cruelly. The sheets and blankets were forgotten about as his hands sought out your sides, and started to caress over them softly. The bastard was_ tickling _ you. 

“_ NO!” _You immediately tried curling into yourself as a gasp escaped you, a half-exclaim, half-laugh squeaking out you. Not tickling! Your one weakness! Desperately, you tried to pry his hands off of your sides, your chest heaving with laughter. You couldn’t believe he was tickling you. Try as you did, twisting and turning didn’t get you anywhere now that he locked you up beneath him. 

He didn’t stop. “I will only cease when you get up! Are you going to get up?” He didn’t care that you were one of the sweetest beings in Hell. You were going to get up. Your body was curled into a little ball, but he had the power of darkness on his side and he went for your feet. 

You could barely hear him over your own laughter, but once you felt him move down, you wheezed out a ‘yes’ because there was no way you wouldn't get up now. You were high off a case of the giggles. “I’m up, I’m up!” 

He stopped and you let out a gasp as you tried to get your breathing under control. He grinned his always eerie but now slightly charming grin, and eased off of you. 

… Only to return to his feet and straighten his hair as if nothing had happened. Though, he did lean over and lovingly kiss your cheek in the process. “Good. I would have hated for my blankets to…” He trailed off as his eyes landed on the tangled mass of linens that were now, once more, waterlogged. His chest seemed to deflate. 

“Every morning,” he tutted playfully. 

You remained on the bed motionless as you caught your breath, following him with your eyes as a final giggle escaped your lips. When you did get up, you moved on your knees to the side of the bed and sat on them, lifting your arms up expectantly. He looked at you for a moment, before he took a step closer and folded his arms around you in a hug. He picked you up. 

It never ceased to amaze you that he could without effort. 

“You are so lucky that my wrath doesn’t extend to you, you precious thing.” His head bent so he could kiss your hair. You were adorable, and his. You wrapped your legs around his abdomen immediately, a smile creeping on your face as your arms soon wove around his neck. 

Gently, you brought your lips to his chin and pressed a small kiss to his jaw. When you pulled away, you hummed lightly, reaching up to flick a piece of hair out of his face. 

He had so much damn hair.

“If I let you dress me up for the party, would you forgive me?” You questioned lightly. “For today, at least. I dunno what’ll happen tomorrow morning.” You half-joked, already planning on making it ten times harder for him than it was today. His reactions were to die for.

“You would let me choose what you wear?” He held you outwards from him, and you were forced to hang there like some sort of house cat with his hands under your arms. With his tree-branch arms, it shouldn't have been possible. But that was the least of your worries. If he was the tree, then you were the roots. Together, you kept each other grounded. 

“_ Really? _” He clearly refused to put you down until you answered him in the affirmative. His face was eager, this was everything he had always wanted!

You winced, expecting the very worst. “... Yeeesss?” You elongated the word hesitantly. Just watch him, he’s going to dress you up like a clown. For a troll like him, it probably wouldn’t be too far from reality.

Your body slammed back into his with how fast he pulled you back to him. You let out an _ ‘oof’ _. 

“This is wonderful news! I have just the thing!” He set you down, once again a bit too fast in his excitement. “Oh, this is going to be magnificent!” He started snapping his fingers, and with each snap you were poofed into some style of vintage outfit, as if he were trying to choose. 

Sooner, rather than later, he settled on a red vintage dress with a puffed out skirt. He seemed to have a thing for matching. It was sleeveless, and the shoulders and neck line were all black lace— to pair it all together, there was a black satin ribbon about your waist. You blinked down at the new clothing you adorned, and were pleasantly surprised to say that you actually liked it. It wasn’t that you weren’t fond of his fashion taste, it was just… dated.

Alastor nodded to himself with a little hum and snapped his fingers one last time, only to adorn your legs in stockings and black kitten heels. His eyes widened at you and he started clapping happily. A round of applause started to surround you both. “Just beautiful, darling! I couldn’t have done it without you!” He sounded like a child on Christmas morning. 

It was great and endearing how he got so excited over fashion, but the thing you were worried most about were the heels. Even standing up straight _ and _ remaining still it was difficult. You felt like if you walked you would break your ankles. 

You didn’t have much practice for such fanciful clothing choices. 

Just as you were about to say something though, you looked up at him and were silenced temporarily by his absolutely delighted expression. “It’s…” You looked down at it again, letting your fingers trail across the cool fabric. “Beautiful. Thank you.” The moment you tried to take a step towards him however, you let out a wobbly ‘whoa’ as you tried to get your footing, only to shoot him a sheepish smile.

“Style is one thing I do greatly miss from the surface.” He told you, offering you his arm. Instead of questioning the outstretched arm this time, you allowed yourself to lightly wrap your own around his and rest it in the crevice of his elbow. At least now you had some sort of balance as you learned to walk in heels.

“I miss it. My mother used to tell me that as long as you tried on the outside, it was a lot harder for people to get into your insides.”

You almost made the joke about him getting in a _ lot _ of people’s insides, but held your tongue. 

“She taught me that caring about my appearance would make it harder for those who didn’t understand me, to get to me. Though rather than that enchanting lesson, I just developed a love for tailored suits.” And silks. He didn’t think he really needed to mention that bit though, as he was pretty convinced you were already well aware. 

“Your mom sounds nice.” Sounds? Sounded? You decided on the first one. You stopped yourself from instinctively saying ‘maybe I can meet her one day’, because if she was as nice as she sounded, then she was probably in Heaven. “Is that why you wear this thing like a uniform?” You questioned, poking playfully at the suit. 

“I happen to adore this suit. I have several exactly like it, in fact. It was very unfortunate that one was ruined by such a foul demon, but alas, that is what happens when you’re not paying attention in Wonderland.” He lamented, starting forward slowly so you would be able to move with him. 

“As for my mother, yes. She was a wonderful woman.” He missed her terribly, but was happy that she was where she belonged. She would not have been suited for Hell much at all. She was far too sweet, and far too sensitive to be able to deal with so much darkness. Though, he _ could _ have said the same thing about you when you arrived…

“We should probably get you more clothes, darling. You wear the same things, but I'm not sure if you actually like them.” He mentioned. He would just love to take you shopping, dress you up in boundless silks. Yes, that was what you needed. His face showed his thoughts on the subject clearly. 

You let out an agreeable hum. Despite having been woken up by a tickle fight and tug-of-war, you were still slightly groggy. You had caught him sleeping a few times, but generally, when you awoke, he was already awake. He was always up your ass about your health, but what about his? 

“How long did you sleep?”

“As much as I normally do, perhaps an hour or so longer.” Perhaps he should install a walkway, just so you could easily walk through the swamp. It didn’t seem you were very adept at it quite yet. He kept his hold on you steady, ready to catch you if necessary. His eyes were settled on your feet, and how they wobbled uneasily in such attire. 

It should not have been as cute as it actually was. You were just _ precious _. Feisty. His. He would be forever smitten by that fact. You had agreed to be his. It had a hum rumble in his chest. 

“An hour?” An hour. He said an hour. What the fuck. You stopped mid-step, despite wobbling a bit from the movement. No wonder he always had dark circles under his eyes. What sort of dark sorcery— “An _ hour?” _You repeated.

“Yes, about an hour _ longer _ than I normally do! I’d say, maybe four hours. I don’t need much sleep, and I have lots to do and keep up on. I like to spend my time awake, ready to conquer my to-do list and of course spend as much time as I can with you.” His arm urged you forward, as you were both likely to abandon all responsibility should you stay in here much longer. 

Oh. You had misunderstood. You allowed him to urge you forward. Still. “Four hours isn’t a lot, Al.” Well, in terms of sleep. Time was weird. It always seemed to go so slow when you weren’t doing something you liked, but too fast when you were. Perhaps that’s why the week had gone so quickly. 

“My _ deer,” _You snickered lightly, your lips stretching into a grin at the very well, clever, thought-out pun. You were a genius. “You need more sleep.”

“It may not seem like a sufficient amount of time for you, my darling, but I assure you, it’s more than plenty for me—“

“—No it’s not.” 

“Yes, it is.” He narrowed his eyes as you both stopped in front of the door. 

“_ Fine _. Then I’ll go back to eating a granola bar for breakfast.” Yeah, that was enough for you, huh? You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

“That’s different! If I try to sleep any longer, I end up sleeping for three years. And that isn’t an exaggeration! I lost three years in the fifties because I wanted to sleep in.” He explained quickly. “You wouldn’t believe what happened in my absence either, it was a disaster when I woke up!” Just the thought of it made him tired. He always had so much to work on once he did actually wake up.

And then he met your eyes. “Unless of course, you would like to be tasked with the duty to wake me up at a reasonable hour. But then, who will wake you?” You both would end up wasting decades, because no one would be able to wake _ either _ of you up. 

You rolled your eyes and took your first non-wobbly step, just a single step, closer. He was annoying, but he was _ your _ annoying dumbass. You reached up with your other hand and let it brush across his cheek. “I have an eternity to spend down here. If I have to wait three years for you to wake up, just so long as you’re rested, then I will.” 

Wow, you were never that sappy. Ever. 

He faltered. His chest felt tight. “Well, fine.” He gave in. That was easy. You deserve a pat on the back. “I will… _ try _ to get more sleep. But I warned you beforehand, so you cannot blame me when I end up sleeping for far too long.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, entirely relieved that he would actually get the sleep he needed. Not that he would get away with it if he didn’t, because apparently you hadn’t touched your own bed for the past week. 

His hand came to cradle your face then and you leaned into it. “If you keep talking to me like that, you’re likely to get me to do anything you wish.” He dropped his lips to your forehead, and ran his cheek across your hair afterwards. The tenderness you inspired inside him, it was so warm, so lovely. “Shall we conquer the world, darling?” 

You closed your eyes and hummed out softly: “Together.” And then, mischievously, you recalled his previous words. You opened your eyes to peek up at him, “Anyways, I think I have a _few_ ways of waking you up.” You winked, pulling back and, despite stumbling forward a few paces, you grasped his hand in yours and looked back at him, the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. 

“I assure you, dropping water on me has no effect. It has been tried once.” His eyes turned thoughtful as he recalled that particular memory, or lack thereof. “Though I am sure whatever you try shall be interesting if it has you in such a rosy state.” His arm flexed around your hand as he turned his face to yours. “Good luck!” He wished you. He really hoped he didn’t wake up tomorrow only for him to realize that it was twenty years later. What a nightmare. 

He pushed open his door and led you both outwards. 

To say the least, you got used to the heels rather quickly. There wasn’t much ‘heel’ to them to begin with, at least, not compared to what Angel wore every chance he got. If you hadn’t gotten used to them quickly, you were sure you would be faced with teasing and humiliation from the effeminate spider for not being able to handle them. Paired with his boastful pride, it probably wouldn’t be all that fun. 

Nevertheless, Alastor held your arm in his the entire way- which you were more than grateful for, because you found yourself growing nervous at the increased sound the closer you got to the lobby. Out of all the things you could have expected, nothing could have prepared you to see…

Hearts. 

Not the terrifying beating ones, but the equilateral bumpy triangle ones, scattered in groups all over the lobby. Red, white and pink streamers were looping across the high ceilings and fluttering down the walls. You also noticed that Charlie had painstakingly removed all of her paintings to avoid what had happened last time. In their places were various scenes from popular old romance novels. 

You weren’t quite sure what all the books were, but you recognized one as The Pride and Prejudice. 

Even some of the light bulbs had been changed into pink ones to give off a more ‘romantic’ vibe. You noticed that there was spare glitter scattered across the floor and were immediately happy that it wasn’t your job to clean up anymore because _ this _ was going to be a _ pain in the ass. _

All in all, it was very… pink. And red. Valentines-esque, which was a weird theme for an open house, but it was Charlie’s big day and you supposed it wouldn’t be all that bad. 

There were a few demons already, even at this time in the morning. Some big, some small, some with a thousand eyes, some with a few hundred limbs. Y’know. Normal. But what did catch your eye was a demon who you had briefly encountered before. It was that one sheep that had been frightened away by Alastor’s shadow. She looked nervous, standing at the door. You didn’t blame her.

“You see that one?” You spoke softly, leaning over to Alastor lightly. You wouldn’t point, but you did make a head motion towards her.

“Yes, the little wooly one, what about her?” Alastor did not recognize her from his tone, either that or he just didn’t care. The arm that carefully held yours continued to urge you closer to the rest of the demons. 

It was like he was _ eager _ to cause mischief. 

Despite being pulled towards the group of other, more intimidating demons, you kept your eyes on the ‘little wooly one’. “When you sent your shadow— _ Chester _ with me that, uh… one time.” You didn’t specify, because honestly, it would take you an hour to go through all the times he sent his shadow after you. “It scared her away when she asked about the hotel. I wanna talk to her.” You were more than eager to apologize for that incident. 

You tried tugging on his arm while he also tugged you. 

A brief sigh left his nose and he unwound his arm from yours. “Do try not to fall, little one. Especially when I am not there to catch you. Go have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” His voice pitched into a teasing tone before he started humming as he walked away. 

His eyes were set on Husk, and you had a feeling the cat demon was going to drink much faster now that the Radio Demon had his sights on him. 

Well, what _ wouldn’t _he do? You huffed out before shaking your head. Okay. You got this, girl. You looked towards the sheep demon who looked done up; but a bit lost. She adorned a pink lace dress with different designs in it, the shoulder straps just a bit down her arms. The dress was pretty, expensive. 

Making your way through the demons who were probably here more for the free housing and free food than actual interest in redemption, you b-lined it straight towards her.

“Uh, hey, um, you there.” You called out to her. Your confidence faltered slightly as you rubbed the back of your neck. “I… think I met you before?” 

Her eyes flickered to yours, ears pinning back after a moment. You could literally see her pupils dilating in realization of who you were, before she stuttered out a small ‘hello’ before averting her gaze. 

Immediately, you were beginning to freak out because _ she _was freaking out. “I’m… so sorry about what happened. That, uh, that was my—” You looked over to the bar where Alastor was pissing off Husk for the umpteenth time. “Him. It was him.” You pointed at him. “Not me. Sorry.”

She blinked, but upon shuffling on her hooves for a moment nervously, she finally looked at you. When she opened her mouth, the quietest of bleats fell from her and you widened your eyes, before biting your bottom lip to not laugh. She looked even more embarrassed. 

“I-It’s okay.” She accepted the apology, before following your gaze for a moment to the Radio Demon. “... Probably not the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“Okay, good. Good.” You laughed nervously. How do you befriend people? What is ‘socialization’? You looked around the party for a minute, before your eyes landed on Charlie. “That’s Charlie. She’s really nice. Um, you can go to her and ask if you can join in for the tour, if you’d like? I think she’s doing one.” Considering the fact that she was literally yelling ‘come here for a tour’. 

She went for zero to one-hundred in an instant. “A tour!?” She beamed up at you. She was a bit smaller than you, but not by much, but when you nodded, she went over to Charlie. Said Princess of Hell greeted her with a beaming smile, and after a few minutes, you saw her tail begin to wiggle behind her. Well, at least she was fine now. 

You were fine. This was fine.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding before it occurred to you that you hadn’t asked for her name. Shit. With a sigh, you turned around and went back over to Alastor and Husk. The bar was quiet other than like two demons, which was obviously because of the fact that Husk looked like he was about to pummel the Radio Demon’s face in. Probably not the best way to look when you’re trying to get people to stay in the hotel. 

“I told ya! Fuckin’ go somewhere else! You’re scarin’ everybody away!” Husk’s tail was twitching furiously behind him and even the feathers on his wings were starting to flare outwards.

Alastor hummed with a disappointed tone. “Husker, I thought we were such pals, and to be treated in such a cruel manner. I have to say, I’m surprised!” Alastor was tapping his claws annoyingly on the bar counter. 

“What the fuck do you mean you’re surprised? Do you know how many people think—” Husk pointed at him, his eye was spasming, but he was cut off by the sight of you.

You blinked. “Hi. Guess what?” You cut in before Husk started throwing punches. 

Alastor gasped. “Darling! Thank goodness you’re here. Husk has been so _ rude _ to me.” He slipped his arm about your waist, pulling you in closer. “But what were you saying, mon amour?”

Husk flipped him the bird, grumbling under his breath. Alastor, out of your view, only grinned larger. 

“Good news or bad news?” You looked down at his arm curled around your waist. It would be an adjustment to be affectionate in public, for sure. You couldn’t have them knowing you were dating the Radio Demon. That was dangerous. The position was already pretty telling, in your opinion, but no one seemed to notice. Not yet at least.

He hummed. “Bad news. I’m not one to beat around the bush. At least, not when it comes to you, darling.” He squeezed you affectionately. Husk’s eyebrow rose while his eyes narrowed. You could tell he was still weary of the arrangement. 

“Uh,” you laughed nervously, “Too bad, because the bad news doesn’t make sense without the good news.” You looked over at Husk in a glance who was staring at you both with a ‘I’m going to kill you if you hurt her’ look. Y’know, the type of look when a dad meets the girl’s boyfriend who also just so happens to be a serial killer. Or, was. 

“She forgave me, is the good news. Bad news is that I forgot to get her name.” You made it seem like it was worse than it actually was. Perhaps the flair for drama was simply because you had been spending more time with Alastor. You were bound to pick up a few traits.

There was a small ‘ah’. “Well, nobody’s perfect. I’m happy to hear you have settled whatever disagreement you had with her.” Alastor bopped his head in the affirmative, like he knew what he was talking about. Sometimes it was like he didn’t understand anything. 

You looked back up at him. “Oh, sorry, I meant you. She forgave _ you _.” You said.

“Me? What did I do? I don’t even know the dame.” His head cocked to the side in a confused manner, his ears falling to one side cutely with the action. He had never encountered the little lamb. 

Your heart fluttered at the sight, but you steeled yourself. “When you followed me that one time with… Chester,” The shadow creature thing still unnerved you. “It scared her. I apologized for you… it? Yeah. It. You control it.” Like a hand puppet. You nodded right back at him in affirmative, because you knew that he was a puppeteer.

It was easier to believe that he just controlled it than it actually being a living entity.

Alastor rose an amused brow. “I am Chesterfield’s master. I do not control it. Otherwise why would I have covered myself in glitter? Chester is fully capable of making his own choices… Though I do recall…” He stopped himself and his eyes flitted downwards to his shadow that was currently behaving like a normal shadow would. “Chester.” He called lightly. 

The shadow manifested, rising from the floor like some horror movie. But when Chester sheepishly bobbed over to Alastor, you saw how droopy it’s ears were. “Did you frighten a little sheep when our darling went out?” Alastor rose his brows and lowered his head in effort to look more stern.

Oh god, the shadow was like his dog.

Chester let out a strange whimper, it sounded hollow, but also strangely metallic. Alastor took a deep breath, seemingly in disappointment. “Chester, I hardly doubt she was any harm. Have you gotten that bored?” Alastor reached out a hand and tapped the shadow sweetly on the head. 

Chester nuzzled upward into the touch. 

“What the fuck.” Husk blurted. “Why the fuck are you serenading your damn shadow? Get out of my bar.”

Alastor ignored Husk in favor of scolding his shadow. “You are going to have to apologize later for that. For now, go back to visiting our guests.” Chester’s ears perked up as it disappeared from sight completely. Alastor shook his head and turned briefly over to Husk.

“My shadow has its own consciousness, I’ll have to ask you to politely butt out, Husker. You have no idea what it takes to discipline your own shadow. He is like the son I’ll never have.” Alastor held a closed fist over his heart dramatically. “Chester is the only chance I shall have at offspring! Let me live my sad, childless life!”

“You would be a horrible father.” Husk said blankly. 

Alastor shook his head quickly in offense. “Excuse _ you _. We shall never know, shall we?” 

You leaned on your elbows upon the counter, watching the entire conversation take place. In doing so, you had managed to catch a glimpse at the action around the rest of the room. The hotel residents looked busy; and you were tempted to just go find Charlie and ask if you could help out.

But when Husk looked between you and Alastor right then and there, you snapped your gaze back to his and choked on your breath. “_ No. _” What the fuck, man? 

“Relax kid, you’d be a horrible mother, too.” He huffed grumpily. 

You gawked. “_ Okay! _ Can we please talk about something else? Hey, look over there!” You pointed at the stream of demons entering the lobby. “New customers, Husk, eh? Eh? Maybe _ you’ll _find someone.” 

“I lost the ability—”

“To love years ago. Yeah, I know. Can I have a drink?” You blurted. You were nervous, mostly because now with the stream of new demons entering for the first time… well, since the other party, there was a pretty good chance for some to recognize Alastor. And then see his arm around you and- 

Hah. Nope. You didn’t want a target on your head. 

You tried to unravel his arm from around you, before attempting to hop onto the stool. It was a spinning stool, which probably wasn’t the best thing for drunks. But you weren’t drunk. So it was okay. 

“May I have one as well?” Alastor asked, leaning forward on his elbows. “It has been a while since I last indulged in your bartending.” 

Husk let out a groan. “What do you want, kid?” He was going to do yours first, based on the sole fact that he liked you more. Alastor could wait forever. _ The prick. _

You were surprised that Alastor even drank, since he seemed repulsed by the idea of you doing it. Which was probably a good thing because the last time you had didn’t really… go well. 

“Strawberry Daiquiri, please!” You liked those. There was a bit of liquor in the daiquiri, but not much to really do anything. It was more of a smoothie than an actual drink.

Husk looked nonplussed, but something else died in him at that moment. You really were a child. “... Sure.” But he would pull out the stupid blender, and blend the fucking ice, and use that goddamn fucking syrup… for you. God damn it. He went down the short line at the bar after he finished your drink, just because he knew it would piss Alastor off. 

You swung your legs beneath the chair idly before looking over to Alastor. “Do you want some?” Even though you didn’t want to make it obvious to strangers, he was still yours and you should offer, right?

He readjusted his monocle for a moment as he inspected the drink. “No thank you. Such sweet things don’t please me. I’d much prefer something bitter. Though do indulge yourself, little sharkling.” He pat you happily on your knee, dangerously eyeing Husk as the cat slinked back to his spot in front of him. “Husker, may I have a _ drink? _”

“Fuck you.”

“Husker, this is your job.”

“I don’t give a shit.” 

Alastor’s fists flexed underneath the bar. 

“What do you want?” You leaned over to him. 

“The Husker Special.” His eternal grin stretched.

Husk’s eyes snapped towards Alastor, that frown still on his face as he finally offered Alastor his attention. “Last time—”

“I had a lovely time, do make it again for me would you?” 

You squinted at the two of them silently. Husker pulled out a strange bottle filled with dark purple, and then one with red, one with orange, and eight other bottles of ungodly colors on the counter and Husk was mixing them like it was his _ job _. He hadn’t made one of these in a long, long time. 

“Uh.” You blurted, watching the swirling colors with wide eyes. 

When he was done, he slid an amber drink that had a strange iridescence over to Alastor. “Here, now fuck off outta my bar.” 

Husk looked at you. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He muttered.

“But you didn’t—“ You started.

Alastor grinned his big stupid grin, and popped off the stool. He took a slow sip and ignored the burning that scorched down his throat. “Darling, would you like to come along?” 

You stared at Husk who had already turned around and started serving grumpily the others. Some of them had begun to notice that the Radio Demon was there, but completely and utterly ignored you. You sighed, and got off of the stool to follow him. 

You remembered that one time when you had drunk with Husk at the bar and even after one drink, you were out of your damn mind. Husk knew what was good, and you absolutely did not trust what he had given Alastor at all. “Al, you shouldn’t drink that. Husk said that something happened the last time.” And that didn’t sound good. 

Could he even handle his liquor well? You brought your own drink to your lips and let the sweet strawberry taste fill your tastebuds. 

He waved you off. “I just ended up broadcasting some rather intriguing jazz music. Though, there _ was _ something else… Ah, no, it’ll be fine darling. I rarely drink, and I’m not so light on my feet that one of these will put me under!” 

You had a feeling those were going to be some famous last words. 

You crossed your arms and squinted are the amber drink.“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you always doubt me!” Alastor took another sip, and you could literally see a shock run up his spine, just as it caused him to bristle. Then, after a short moment, his movement became much more fluid. “Darling, it’ll help loosen me up, be more friendly and less scary!” He tried to appease the situation. “Besides, when I ask you not to drink, you get very angry. It’s just this once!”

Oh, he was guilt tripping you. “I do not.” You huffed. 

“Whatever you say, my dear.” He pecked you quickly on the cheek. “Would you like to dance?”

You deflated as he did so, half of you wanting to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble and half of you wanting to make sure no one found out that you were the Radio Demon’s new squeeze. But he danced with Charlie before, and tried to with practically everyone else in the hotel. So maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. “Not with the drink in your hand.”

“Fair enough.” He swallowed the entire thing in one gulp. 

Your jaw dropped. That wasn’t what you meant!

“Let’s dance!” He delicately wrapped his fingers around your hand and tugged you out onto the cleared space for dancing. 

Would it be slow dancing or… what? You laced your fingers into his—“Slow dance, right? I can’t dance.” You never really tried, either. Only that one time with him and the water. 

“Just hold on tight, mon amour.” He pulled you in close. “I’ll do the rest.”

You did just that, and oh man, you were glad you weren’t drunk because if you had been, you probably would have gotten sick all over him. 

Alastor’s grin lit up the room and as soon as he set eyes on you, a delightfully upbeat jazzy tune was thrumming throughout the space. He held your hands tight, and started swinging you around like you were a ragdoll. You were tossed between his legs and then stood back up on your feet, tossed into the air, but never once did his hands leave yours.

Your eyes were wide at first, until you finally relaxed and allowed him to do what he pleased; it had even gotten fun after a bit, and you found yourself laughing a few times, too. 

At one point he settled your feet over his and started to tap dance with you in his arms, it was like he was using you as some adorable puppet to mimic all of his movements perfectly. “See, it isn’t so bad, now is it, my sweet darling?” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before he spun you out playfully. 

Your dress flared out around you as he did so, and you let out a small giggle. You had found yourself to be completely and utterly lost in the moment, and you had even begun to forget about all the demons in the hotel. 

This was all that mattered. Him. He was quick, particularly on his feet, and you had started to feel some sweat form at the base of your neck from such movements and the heat that the hotel had emitted to battle the weather outside. “No, I guess not!” You laughed, spinning back into his chest then. 

You looked up at him by leaning your head back against his chest, your hands holding his around your body as you allowed him to cradle you for a moment. The kitten heels gave you a bit more height than normal, but you still had to stand on your tippy-toes to give him a small, very brief kiss on the bottom of his chin— the highest you could reach at that moment. 

He let out a hoot of laughter, and picked you up by your waist, just to swing you around his lean abdomen. His grip on you never faltered or eased. You were secure in his hold, even when he had been drinking some strange hellish booze. 

“Darling! I must say, you make a _ lovely _ partner!” He placed you back on your feet, and allowed you both to steady yourselves. Even his own chest was heaving slightly. “Shall we schmooze with the newcomers?” He pinched your cheek as his eyes closed cutely. 

“I think you’re a good partner, too.” You giggled, leaning into the pinch, which was a direct opposite of before, where you were had swatted his hand away. It didn’t feel all that good, but that was fine. It was still his hand. It was still him. 

Eventually, with each new demon pair or solo newcomer the two of you encountered, his own words began to grow more and more slow and less ‘Alastor’. He spoke like a normal person, as in, people were finally able to keep up with the words he was saying, rather than just having those words bulldoze them over and leave them all in a state of boundless confusion. Some of the demons didn’t mind talking to him, others were terrified, some tried to actually talk to you as well, while others completely ignored you for the chance to talk to Alastor. 

He was more out of it.

It had occurred to you that the drink wasn’t an instant thing like you had the pleasure of experiencing. Maybe he should drink more. He was much more palatable this way. 

Still, it was unlike him, and the later the day went on, the more drunk he got simply because of that one drink he had. You wondered when it would reach its limit, because right now, you had to stay with him so he wouldn’t do something dumb. 

The one thing you saw growing in his drunkenness, was his lack of patience. He began to grow bored of the conversations quickly, and would often cut others off and drag you away if he didn’t feel ‘entertained’ anymore. You had actually begun to befriend another demon before he had cut in and basically told them to bugger off. That was the last straw in which you pulled him off to the side of the room. 

“You said you would be okay. You just keep getting more drunk. You’re _ drunk.” _

“Quite an astute observation. You are oh, so observant. You know, that’s why I am so dearly fond of you. You are just so lovely, darling. Are you aware of how utterly gorgeous you look tonight? My goodness. Everyone must be just so jealous that I have you on my arm. You are always so ravishing, even when-”

“Al.” You cut him off with a soft laugh. He was getting excited, but you were also increasingly worried. “I think you should lay down, y’know? Or sit down.”

“And miss the party!” He gasped. “Darling, no, it’s our first party as a couple, and I cannot leave you here! Not when you have finally chosen to become mine! And what about me, my sweet sharkling? What shall I do all by my lonesome? Without you, by my side, I shall be devastated!” He leaned into you awkwardly, his upper half curling over you while he leaned his abdomen and thighs into your front. “I need you to carry on!” He boldly declared. 

Demons were starting to notice, and you nervously looked off to the side to see a few whispering to each other. “Uh, okay, okay, sh, Al-” You sh’ed him. 

“Darling! Why are you so worried? Are you ashamed of me? No one would dare harm you while I am near!”

“That’s not it, Al, you need to be quiet. _ Please. _ ” Even if you were near him and nothing would happen to you, what if you _ weren’t _ near him? What then? What if word got out? 

“Am I to keep this secret for eternity? Do you not wish to be mine?” His smile was starting to twitch at the corners, and a soft edge of sadness was creeping into his tone.

Jesus Christ, what. He was so drunk. Off his rocker. You sh’ed him repeatedly then, glancing avidly to the room. Some of the demons were texting, some were actually taking _ pictures. _“Of course I do, don’t be ridiculous. I-”

“Then here! I know just what to do!” He scooped you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest as demons parted so he could walk into the center of the room.

“WhAT? Al! What are you doing!?” You clung onto him.

He summoned his microphone and tapped it on. There was a shrill whine that caused everyone to turn towards the two of you. “Darling, I’m making an announcement.” He cleared his throat before bringing his microphone to his lips. 

He wasn’t. He wouldn’t. “Al, don’t— Shut up, oh my god—”

“Greetings and good evening ladies and gentle-demons! It is my pleasure that I have wonderful news to bring you!” He adjusted his bow tie. “I have found myself in the extraordinary position of finding the most wonderful little demon, and she has finally agreed to be mine! Go on and introduce yourself, little sharkling!” He placed the microphone to your lips. 

You looked out over the sea of demons.

There were many you didn’t recognize, some looking like monsters out of a horror novel or movie than anything, others similar to that of fantasy creatures, some… just weird. Some vaguely human, but the one individual that caught your attention was the effeminate spider that, up until this point, had been flirting with residents absentmindedly. 

Angel.

He looked repulsed. Stiff. Sick. And perhaps the most emotional you had ever seen him. There seemed to be one thousand thoughts running through his mind, his eyes meeting yours, but flickering about your face, unable to hold the eye contact entirely. Finally, his expression settled on a stubborn look, and he turned his head away, a deep-set frown appearing on his features. 

He looked extremely uncomfortable, but far too headstrong to actually do anything about it other than look away right then and there to then escape to his room. 

“Don’t be shy now! There’s nothing to worry about!”

You literally had a spotlight on you at that moment, with a thousand different eyes on you, all watching with curiosity, maliciousness, and mischievousness. “I-“ you opened your mouth. There were demons _ recording _you, taking pictures, talking. This was a nightmare. This was not what you wanted. You definitely had a target on your head. 

This would go viral. You were tense to say the least.

“Well, the cat seems to have gotten her tongue, but, rest assured, she isn’t normally so breathless. I would however like to add something to this little announcement before I resume this lovely open house at the Hazbin Hotel!” He cleared his throat, leaning into the microphone. 

“Should anyone, demon, overlord, entity, or even God himself lay a hand on this precious creature, they will have to go through _ me _. And rest assured, whoever tries, will meet an end far worse than death. I shall make it slow and savor each and every ounce of pain they shall endure, because if you threaten her, you threaten me. I don’t take kindly to threats.” 

You could feel the static lap at your skin then, and by the terrified looks of the audience, you were pretty damn sure he had just done something real scary that was just out of your line of vision. He leaned back and adjusted his bow tie. 

“Anyway! Thank you all for tuning in, ta-ta!” He settled you back down, placing you back firmly on your feet. He tapped his microphone off and it vanished. 

“See! That wasn’t so bad was it darling?”

Your eyes were still on the demons that were still looking at you, and for a long moment, you practically disassociated with yourself. “Are you-“ He was drunk. Don’t go too hard on him. You told him to be quiet. You would have explained it to him if he hadn’t been so rash. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing. “_ Out of your mind?” _Go easy on him.

He was drunk. 

But he had done a stupid thing and now you had a target on the back of your head. What would happen if there was an overlord stronger than him? What about that Vox dude? He was Alastor’s rival. He would try to get you out of the picture, probably! Alastor most likely had a lot more enemies that you would like to know. You let out an exasperated breath.

“This was bound to happen eventually and it is exhausting to hide it when you make me so happy. Or am I just supposed to hide you away forever? I don’t want to hide you, I want to celebrate you, and the love that I have found for you.” He grabbed your hands and held them tight. “I may be drunk, but I am also besotted by you. I don’t want to hide this from anyone. And I will protect you at all costs.”

“Okay, but what if you aren’t there Al, what if—“ There were demons still staring at you. And with a glare at all of them, a bluff to be sure because you were feeling panicked, a few of them turned away immediately, while others only took the opportunity to snap a pic of your blushy face, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and dragged him after you. 

You hoped that Charlie wouldn’t mind you disappearing with him after that. You needed to talk privately— and _ now. _

He followed after you, just happy to hold your hand. “Are you angry with me?”

“No. I’m— I’m scared! I can’t believe you did that— you didn’t _ listen _ to me,” You rushed out, your mind going a million miles per minute, but offered him little to no explanation. “ _ Again.” _You continued to lead him back to his room.

He remained quiet behind you. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was actually quiet. 

When you reached his room, you waited for him to open the door. Perhaps if you had been in a better mood you would have made a joke about ‘open sesame’, but you didn’t, and you weren’t. You couldn’t believe that he didn’t listen to you for the umpteenth time. You would have let him do it, of course, but when things were more calm. 

Whatever calm relationship you wanted to keep between close friends was now broadcasted across all the circles. 

He reached around you to open his door, though his head was down, like you had beaten him. 

“Don’t act like that, Al.” You sighed, walking in after him. 

“Darling, it makes me feel as if you didn’t really mean it. I want so much from you, and I cannot blame you for how demanding I am.” He hiccupped. The sound shocked you both. You had begun to reach out to him before you faltered at it. “What was that strange noise?” 

“A hiccup. You’re drunk. It happens.” You murmured, “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you literally put a bigger target on me! Do you know how dangerous that was!?” You reached out to him again and led him to sit on the bed. “I-I’m not mad at you.” You repeated again, bringing yourself to stand between his legs. “But you shouldn’t have done that. Not that way, at least!_ ” _

“But I did! And it’s done now. You had a target on your head the second you started associating yourself with Charlie, via proxy, the Magne family. Working here puts you in danger. Being with _ me _ also puts you in danger. But, I can protect you. I _ will _ protect you. I can put things in place to make sure you are never in danger. I am willing to put myself in that position as your protector!” 

“But what if you’re not there? You can’t always be there Al, it’s impossible! Sure, you’re my protector when you are here,” not that you asked for it, “but what about when you’re _ not? _” You questioned. You were scared, obviously. But you were more upset about the fact that he didn’t listen to you. 

He always did what _ he _ wanted. Did he even think of the consequences? It was a brash and rushed decision, a _ drunk _decision. He was drunk, you had to remind yourself. He was drunk and probably wouldn’t remember this in the morning. You didn’t remember what you did when you were drunk.

It was a mistake. 

“There are ways around that, I know you’re becoming more fond of Chesterfield, why I could even enchant your own shadow!”

You attempted to grab his hands with a heavy sigh, and lace your fingers through them. You were both new at this and it was strange, weird, and incredibly confusing, and scary. You were _ frightened. _ Drunk or not, he eventually needed to learn not to say the first thing on his mind— surely something that would take time, because radio hosts often did just that. He needed practice, hell, _ you _needed practice. You were also pretty peeved, but you also felt that your fear overcame and muted that annoyance. 

“Do me a favor, please.” You unwound your fingers from one of his hands to reach up to grasp at his collar and pull him down to your level. 

He bent down, letting your hands guide him where you wanted him to be. He was a lot more malleable when drunk, you realized. “What is it, my sweet?”

You knew that if he kept talking, he would probably say something even more stupid. You pressed your lips softly to his, for only the briefest of seconds, before you found your annoyance sparking up again. You pressed your teeth down into the flesh of his lip, just a pressure, but not enough to hurt him. “Be quiet.” 

After all, this had been one of the only ways you found that would shut him up, and half of the time it didn’t even work.

For your sake and his, you hoped it did this time.


	48. Aw Fuck, I Can’t Believe You’ve Done This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ WARNING: explicit sexual content at the end of the chapter. ⚠️

You knew the instant that you could taste the alcohol on his lips, and smell it on his breath, that ‘The Husker Special’ hadn’t been purposed for those wanting to get just _ a little kick. _

It had been made by a bartender who had experience beyond his years. Someone who had literally named it after himself— the most avid drinker in these parts and an individual who wouldn’t even get drunk by vodka straight out of the bottle. It was a mixed concoction with the sole purpose of getting even the most severe of alcoholics drunk, and all of this could be discovered by just how pungent, bold, and incredibly appalling the taste was upon your tongue. 

That slight taste alone was enough to send a shiver up your spine, stinging bitterly at the back of your tongue. Your expression turned sour, and you parted from his lips gently. While the desire to get a rag and rub the lingering taste away was paramount, your thoughts were silenced when you felt an arm slip around your waist, resting lightly upon the dip of your lower back. 

You could feel his impatience in the way that he pulled your bodies flush against one another. You felt the expansion of his chest with each inhale he took, and you were entirely sure that at that moment, he was breathing you in. You would have liked to believe that your bold actions would have been successful in silencing him for at least a little while. 

_ You were wrong. _

“Don’t start something you cannot finish.” 

There was a warning tone hidden in the depths of his charm; drunk or not. It was as clear as day, and while every part of your instincts told you to stop whatever stupid ideas would surely spur up into your mind, you dared to glance up at him then, _ daring _him. The audacity! You couldn’t help but have the inkling suspicion that the emotion which was starting to trickle into your own efforts was something akin to, well, annoyance. 

You were annoyed, hurt, and more importantly- scared. 

He acted as if he had no clue about what he had just done. How his actions had consequences. Did he really not know what he did? How you felt? He didn’t even ask how you felt about it! He just… did it, and now! Now- what if his rival came after you? Who knew how many enemies the guy had! You wouldn’t have cared if he hadn’t been well known, but this was the _ Radio Demon _ , one of Hell’s strongest entities. And you? Who were _ you? _

You barely knew how to dodge a nail-laced bat much less go up against an overlord. 

“Be quiet.” You just wanted him to be quiet for _ one minute _ while you tried to harness your thoughts. You needed silence. You didn’t like it when he was drunk, other than the fact that he talked slower. He was a lot more irritable _ , _ and was a wild child when it happened. His words were now nearly identical to how he spoke when you had first met him. 

He didn’t listen.

Alastor rolled his eyes, just as you felt the weight of his arm leave your waist. “Is this some sort of,” He rolled his wrist in the air, searching for the proper phrase, “Lover’s game I am unacquainted with?” He crossed his arms over his chest then, and you watched as one of his brows rose. 

He leaned back haughtily. “Darling, remember when you first told me the signals _ I _ sent _ you _ were mixed?” He sounded like such a know-it-all brat and you half expected him to stick his nose up right then and there. He closed his eyes for a moment, that grin growing in intensity. But still, he could not shut up. He might have had the right to be silent, but that did not mean he had the ability.

And then he peeked an eye open to peer down at you, just as he leaned forward once more. “What, cat still got your tongue, little sharkling?” A teasing lilt at the end as if he were talking to a pet rather than _ you _. The way he reached down and pinched your cheek, paired with some sort of added aggressiveness that had you rubbing your cheek when you swatted his hand away, it didn’t exactly make you, or the situation, feel any better. 

You frowned. You knew he hated when you frowned, which was the precise reasoning as to why you did it. Why did he always have to get the last word in? You folded your arms in a huff, mimicking his own body-language that probably would come across to bystanders as ‘unwilling to open up simply because you both thought you were in the right’. Thankfully, the two of you were alone.

“The only cat that will have a tongue is Husk, and the tongue will be yours if you’re not _ quiet _ for a _ second _ .” You were rarely so… descriptive or threatening with your words, but you were upset. You were afraid. You had made one request and he didn’t listen. He… _ still _ wasn’t listening to you! With those large demon deer ears of his, you would think he would hear you loud and clear. 

But he didn’t. 

Maybe it was because he didn’t _ want _ to. You wanted him to listen, but you weren’t sure what to say, either. That you were disappointed? Well, yeah, that much was obvious. You wanted him to understand the reasons behind your annoyance and very valid feelings, though, sometimes you felt like he didn’t really understand things unless you blatantly told him word for word. Maybe some silence _ would _do you some good. 

You stepped back and pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

“For someone so angry, you sure have plenty of demands.” An annoyed sigh was released from Alastor’s nose as he crossed over the swampy terrain, taking long strides over to where you demanded him to be. You recrossed your arms, following after him. You watched as he settled himself comfortably upon said furniture, first dutifully undoing the buttons of his coat and actually _ folding _ it on the arm of the couch. 

Being drunk always had a way of making him feel warmer than usual.

He rolled his suspenders in his palms briefly before slipping them off of his shoulders, just to dangle by his lean thighs, only to settle himself with a bit less grace than he normally would have managed into the corner of the couch. He even unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his dress shirt, before leaning back with a comfortable, drunken sigh. 

You stared silently as he spread his shirt out so he could feel the air of his room on his freed skin. You couldn’t believe this. It was difficult. _ This _ was difficult _ . _You couldn’t help but feel some of your confidence falter at the sight of his now slightly-exposed chest and wonder about the countless scars that laid beneath what fabric still covered him. You could see a few of them. Some were risen, some were old and nearly faded. Some were red and fresh.

Maybe you had gotten in over your head with this; maybe it was too dangerous, and maybe you were overthinking this too much, but what else could you do? What else could you possibly _ do _ other than stand there and stare at him while he made himself comfortable as if he had not a worry in the world?

As if everything that had just happened was merely a blip and nothing more? 

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to the back of the couch and, thankfully enough, said couch wasn’t outlandishly tall so you could actually get him in a position that was more comfortable for you. You could barely lean over it, but it was manageable. Looking at your hand for a moment, you brought it into the thick tresses of his hair in an attempt to root yourself to reality. It had calmed you down before, so maybe it would again. 

Nevertheless, even in your silence, a million and one thoughts scattered across your brain and your anxiety riddled annoyance decided in that grand moment to become known.

You weren’t even aware you had begun to yank on his hair. You weren’t _ trying _to hurt him… particularly. To be honest, you weren’t sure… what to do. Your eyes remained locked on his the entire time, yet, once you saw his jaw clench in what you supposed was him trying to remain silent, you eased your roughness into soft strokes. 

You just wanted him to be quiet for a few minutes, he was always so _ loud. _Did you adore it? Him? Yeah, but he was fucking annoying too at times. But of course, he was yours and you two were learning. He was also drunk. You barely remembered what you did when you were drunk. 

Alastor’s eyes were narrowed as he watched you. Something was happening that he was not completely understanding. Not only had you bitten his lip, but he could smell the fury that lapped within you. It only bittered your scent. The rough scratches and the too tight tugs were not subtle, at least, not to him considering he was on the receiving end of your hands.

His eyes didn’t leave your face. The normally angelic contours of your profile were hardened, and around your eyes, twitching. Though something behind your gaze told him you were lost, and very emotional about what had just transpired down below in the lobby. You were going to hurt him, this much he was aware of, but he was not aware of how yet, whether it would be emotionally or physically.

Your hot and cold behavior was very strange. 

These were uncharted waters he had never tread before, particularly not with you. Though, he supposed, all of this was new. It was new for you as well, and in your mind, he had fucked up hardcore. He completely disregarded you and your desires and instead did what he wanted. You not only wanted to be very, very far away at that moment, but at the same time, close to him so he could actually protect you. 

Instinctually, you knew it was extremely dangerous— how would this affect the hotel? You? Him? Anyone in your personal circle? Did he put a target on them too just because they knew you? You wanted to stay in silence but you also wanted to figure out why he thought that had been a bright idea. Perhaps some would have stated that your way of calming yourself down was strange and really fuckin’ stupid, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Especially because you had about five hundred different things that held a greater importance than their opinion. 

Then again, you probably wouldn’t ever touch him the way you were currently touching him in public, either. 

With a brisk sigh, you brought your hands to his ears, trailing up the base and massaging them. The last time you had done such a thing had been when he had made you breakfast. You hadn’t even realized you were being rough with him until that moment, You hesitated. What were you doing? Maybe you _ were _being mean. You didn’t like being mean. 

And then you recalled his words of not starting something you weren’t able to finish, and the fact that he completely disregarded your annoyance and the really dangerous situation that he had just put on you, and just like that, your roughness started up again. But a bit less than before. You knew he was sensitive with his ears.

“May I speak now?”

“I don’t know.” 

You didn’t know if you wanted him to speak. You didn’t know if _ you _ wanted to speak. It would have been so much easier if you could just… get into his mind and piece things together for yourself. Because as much as you wanted to know him, even the fuckin’ stupid parts of him, he would only ever tell you the things _ he _wanted you to know. 

He released a sigh through his nose. He had no idea how either of you were supposed to get anywhere with this argument if there was to be no talking. Silence would only lead you both further into contempt, and he was not fond of the sound of silence. There was a reason he had a swamp in his room and carried static with him wherever he went. 

Silence was inherent to danger. 

And with how your grip was tightening on his ears, he had never felt so threatened with you before. He felt like he was being preyed upon, and it made his skin crawl. You both were in his space, the one he had crafted for himself and welcomed you into, and he felt threatened by this tiny little demon who hadn’t even fully came into her own powers. 

The entire situation was ridiculous. 

He wanted it to stop, but there would be no stopping until he was granted permission to finally speak. His fingers were tapping rhythmically against his suit jacket that still lay neatly folded on the arm of the couch. That alone was able to dissuade him from shoving his claws through the expensive fabric. 

Though the urge to sink his claws into something, was still very present. 

Maybe you were too in over your head with this absolutely dangerous demon, but you didn’t care. It was always dangerous. _ He _ was dangerous. You were too naive to have kept that in your mind. You had let this happiness dissuade you from those darker thoughts. The _ memories _. You had told him you had forgiven him, and that much was true, but it was different. 

Forgiving and forgetting were two very different things. 

_ “Why?” _ You were new at this, he was new at this, and it was all so very infuriating and annoying and still strangely intimate at the exact same time. And that’s why it was confusing. “Why did you do that? Why did you think that was a good idea?” You were scared. Him being drunk legitimately scared you, because you had realized that what you had begun to figure out about him was just barely scratching the surface.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest as your hands crushed his ears in your grip. 

_ He _ was getting angry. 

His hands curled into fists and he held them tightly in his lap. _ But. _ He _ had _ made you suffer through so much already, and in the back of his mind, if this was what you needed to get your frustrations out, he would let you. Despite the sensation of his own anger rising. He needed to stay calm, yes, as calm as he could. 

Though presently, it seemed like it was an insurmountable task. 

Your eyes fell upon his gripping claws, and clenched jaw, you suddenly realized how tight your grip was around his ears. You eased up on them just enough, lest your knuckles start to grow white. You were annoyed, granted, you were pretty damn sure anyone in a similar situation would be annoyed.

But your worry, your anxiety, your _ fear— _everything that you had begun to heal from before now began to creep up from the outskirts of your mind. You wanted answers, reasoning, and assurance that it would all be okay. And despite him saying that it would, despite him telling you that he would never let harm come to you… 

Could someone really guarantee such a thing?

“Why do you think?” Alastor hissed out, the corners of his lips twitching. “What have I already told you? And you tell me I don’t listen…” he muttered. ”I wanted the world to know that you are _ mine _ , and you wanted this to be so, but you are caught up in the danger. But haven’t you realized? I carry danger with me everywhere I go! I thought you were _ aware _.” His voice was muffled behind a curtain of static, and the moment you met his eyes once more, you noted how his pupils were slimming into radio dials. 

Those antlers, once sharp at the edges but relatively small and harmless, began to grow; curling in on themselves and outwards from his skull. That grin grew into a haunting cheshire alternative; no doubt a subconscious reaction to feeling threatened, but alas, he was drunk and his senses were completely and utterly skewed. 

That was the moment you pulled your hands away, the sudden realization of how easily he could revert back to his old self. Or perhaps that was just his true self. Your heart began to thrum in your chest at the incredibly terrifying sight— _ he _ was terrifying. If anyone said different, they were liars. You took a step back, the swamp water splashing beneath your shoes.

Maybe it wasn’t that you were scared of the other overlords, maybe it was that you were scared of the danger _ he _would put you in. “You can protect me.” You said warily, “but who’s going to protect me from you?” Maybe he really was the most dangerous out of all of them.

Your words startled him out of his drunken stupor. He saw how you were deathly still, gazing at him with fear in your eyes. His mouth opened, and then snapped it shut. He pressed a hand to his chest and looked at his feet. He needed to collect himself. He stood, slowly. “I hadn’t realized I was transforming. Darling, I would…” He couldn’t say he would never harm you, because he had in the past. He pleaded out your name, shaking his head and turning to the side.

It was rare that he struggled to find the words he wished to say. But there were a few words that could actually rectify the situation, and this time, he didn’t have a problem saying them. 

“Darling. I am sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He paused, and you watched as he physically turned back into the Alastor you knew. 

With your flight or fight instinct triggered, you tried your best to harness it and calm your beating heart. 

”If… if you ever feel that you need to run from me I understand, and I… I’m sorry.” Alastor’s gaze dropped to the water that was lapping at your feet. What had he done? 

“I don’t get it.” You said before you brought your hand up to rub at your arm. You closed your eyes for a moment, stepping forward and trying to steel over your nerves. “I don’t get what I’m supposed to do. I don’t get how I’m supposed to protect myself, how I’m supposed to stand by your side when you’re this… big, bad demon, and I’m just… me. I’m _ me _and,” you laughed humorlessly, “I’m a bug that can be easily squashed under your enemies feet.”

Did he not understand?

“You told me you had a rival, and that rival is probably equal in power to you, right? So how do you protect me from him? How do I protect _ myself?” _That was what you were afraid of. Not being able to. You shook your head after a moment. You were losing sight of the fact that he was drunk. He was confused, you were confused, and everything would continue to be confusing until the end of time, apparently.

You swallowed the thickness that had risen up at the back of your throat, and despite your instincts to get the fuck out of there while you could, you didn’t give him a chance to respond, because you were pretty sure from your own experience he had probably only caught fifty percent of that. Your own brain lagged and slowed when you were drunk, and you only caught bits and pieces generally, so you doubted he could surpass you in that field. 

You took a step forward, and then another, before you held out your hand to him. Maybe it was _ you _ who should be quiet.

He grabbed onto your hand like it was an anchor and his salvation.

“Darling,” He started softly, trying to pull you into his chest. He wanted to erase what had just happened, assure himself that you were still there. “We can do this together. You will not have to worry about figuring this out alone. I can teach you how to use magic and how to tap into your demon form at will. You won’t need anything from me, you can still have all the freedom you had before, and the power to keep you safe. Do you ever think, even for one second, that I haven’t thought about all of those scenarios? That I haven’t thought about your safety since the moment I knew I wanted you to be mine?” 

You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek against his chest. You remained silent.

“Your safety will always be one of my biggest concerns. And in your demon form, if you can just access your strange sparks, I know you will be able to defend yourself.” Somehow, he said that in a bold manner despite remaining quiet… er. “You will be fine. I promise, I will teach you how to defend yourself. And not with some makeshift mace,” his tone insinuated that he was still bothered by what had happened, and perhaps you would have remembered that it had been _ him _that you had defended yourself against, if you weren’t so lost in your own thoughts. 

“You and I will work with magic and our demon forms. You won’t have to be afraid of anything. Not even me. I will happily teach you how to knock me on my own bottom.” He didn’t know what else he could say on the matter. He knew that you would always have a target on your head, just as he did, just as Charlie did, and even Husker and Angel. Being in Hell meant making enemies, making friends as well, but mostly enemies. There were so many things that could happen to you all the time, and he only wanted to share… the one good thing he had down here. 

And that was you. 

He held you tighter, rolling his thumbs over your shoulder blades, tracing them. “I have never claimed to be perfect, and you are well aware of the mistakes I make. But just know, I will always do all within my power to assure your safety, and your freedom.” He dropped his lips to your hair.

“I only ever want you safe, but I also want you to be with me. I… I am sorry. I am sorry I frightened you.” He murmured into your tresses. 

Your shoulders slumped at that. Your fear dissipated as if a wave had cleansed a wildfire, and… When he actually apologized again, and again, nothing in that moment would make it clearer that he was incredibly drunk. You were arguing with a drunk, and somehow, said drunk had managed to appease your worries. For now. “I’m sorry.” You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, and rested your cheek against his chest. “I’m… I just don’t know what I’m doing, everything is so scary, Al. I don’t think it’s really… sunk in that I’m dead, yet. I say it all the time, but I just. I’m scared. I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

He was far too drunk and too besotted by you to be filled with anything but warm gooey feelings. He didn’t want anything else to take up residence in his heart but you. “Darling, I… It’s alright, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I am the one who took the choice of sharing our joining to the world. It came from a place of excitement and pride and I lost myself. Perhaps we both should just sleep on it, and decide if we want to kill each other in the morning when I am sober, and when you can fight me proper.” He ended his statement by pulling away just to give you a wink and a genuine smile. 

Yeah. Sleep sounded good. That lovers quarrel had taken a lot out of you. When he pulled away, you looked up at him before reaching up in a very childish, very idiotic and incredibly needy ‘grabby hands’ motion. 

His arms easily folded around you, keeping you close to him. With you tightly secured in his arms, he rose, and carried you to his bed. “Fighting is normal? Correct? Or has our relationship run its course?” He asked you teasingly. 

Was fighting normal? You didn’t know. Probably not. “Um…” You yawned, shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno.” And then you blinked up at him, “No, we’re still together. I wanna be together.” It was obvious, because how wouldn’t it be with your legs wrapped around his abdomen and your arms coiled around his neck? Maybe you had come across as a bit heartless, but you were happy to be his. Even if his drunk actions had been irritating. When you felt him swaying a bit from the alcohol, you unraveled your legs and arms from him and attempted to slide off of him before the two of you fell over. 

You brought your hand to his and attempted to guide him to his own bed. 

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have the Husker Special anymore, it really does make things happen. And not in a proper fun way either. Darling, I’m back on the wagon.” He snapped himself into some pajamas and crawled, like a real crawl, into his bed, where he awkwardly slid under his blankets. “I adore you and I hope we can discuss this in the morning. I don’t want to make you angry.” He blinked up at you slowly as he outstretched his arms towards you.

You had no idea what his slang meant, but you tried your best to piece it together. “I know, me either.” You murmured, watching with a small, tired smile as he reached for you. You took a step forward and raised your knee to lean on the edge of the bed to pull yourself up, then, you allowed him to embrace you. 

Swamp-wet dress and all.

You leaned up and pressed a gentle smooch to his lips, particularly over the area where you had bit him, as if your kiss could heal the wound, but more intimate. More _ romantic, _apologetic, if you would. “No more Husker Specials.” You looked up at him as you whispered the words against his lips. You could still taste the alcohol on them. 

Of course you could, he was inebriated.

He nodded sleepily against you, tucking you into his body like you were some sort of teddy bear. One of his legs slid in between your own, and he tried to encase his body around you. There was a sudden exhaustion he hadn’t felt in a long while, and it was making his limbs heavy, but your supple body was so kind against his sharp one. He pressed his lips to your chin, and ran his nose over the line of your jaw. “No more.” he mumbled sleepily, his eyelids slipping shut at last. 

You stayed there for a long moment, your eyes trailing across his rather peaceful expression. Your left leg had been moved as to lay across his, and you reached up to move a few stray pieces of hair out of his face, before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight.” You murmured softly, leaning back and settling yourself back into the pillows. 

Sleep greeted you a bit later than you would have originally thought, despite finding yourself equally exhausted. Concerns continued to rampage your mind before at last, you drifted off into the much needed rest. 

Your dreams were light enough, but didn’t make much sense. They didn’t need to, though, because you still woke up refreshed. The red light filtered through the windows and held the tell-tale glow of morning. You had always been a particularly light sleeper, just _ stubborn, _so you were glad to find that Alastor didn’t snore. 

You were anticipating finding him staring at you when you awoke, but when you looked up, all you saw was that close-lipped smile and that deep maroon shade of his eyelids. You blinked warily, half expecting him to scare the shit out of you by snapping his eyes open, but when you realized his breathing was even and undisturbed, and the soft twitching of his facial muscles, you realized that he was in fact seriously sleeping. 

You were half tempted to just let him sleep, but upon second thought… if you were up, then he should get up, too. 

You wouldn’t let him sleep for three years. You looked at him for a long moment, your eyes searching for any sign that he would stir as you tried to think of ways to actually wake him up. You could poke him until he did, you could get a blow horn and squeeze it so it screamed in his ear-- Angel would like that one. You could wake him up with a head rub. You could… whoa. 

That thought caused your cheeks to flare up in a blush; but you couldn’t help but find yourself curious as to what would happen. How scandalous. Well, it definitely would be a more pleasurable way to wake up, and you also sorta wanted to see the scars again. You could lead up to it. Your curiosity truly knew no bounds, but you had to be careful. 

You had to be _ sneaky _. 

Slowly, you lifted yourself up— only to find that his arm was around your waist and weighing you down. You looked at it and very lightly grabbed the sleeve to raise it. Heavy, but limp. You know, he could have probably been dead. Actually. He was already dead. Whatever. You weren’t going to confuse yourself this early. 

You weren’t even sure what time it was.

With the weight now removed, a mischievous smile formed upon your lips. You felt like a gremlin, trying to figure out which treasure piece to pick. Shirt first. Investigatingly, your eyes locked on his face to watch for any signs of him waking up, you then let them fall back to his button up shirt. It was red and striped and very Alastor fashioned. He liked red, and stripes apparently. You began to unbutton a single button. 

There were no movements or changes, just that soft breathing. Popping off that single button, you lightly grasped the edge of the duvet and pulled it down half-way to his waist. Slow and steady wins the race. Reaching back up, you undid a second button. Paused, to look for signs of disturbance. None. The third botton. Repeat that process. 

He really slept like the dead. The pajama shirt was half-way undone, and as much as you wanted to set your sights upon his body, you decided to wait. You could see a few scars, but not much. Fourth button, pause. Fifth button… you looked up to his face. There was just one... last... button. You undid it, your eyes still locked on his peaceful face before you parted his shirt to each side.

Your gaze fell to the countless, innumerable scars. They were all different shapes and sizes, some looking like burn marks, some looking like stab wounds, some new, a lot of them old, a few faded, a lot fresh. Or so they appeared. There was one long grey slash that resided over the area of his heart, and for some reason that one was much larger than the others and it looked more jagged, like whatever had caused it had been the most painful of them all. 

You blinked.

It had been so different feeling them, but _ seeing them? _A very soft whisper of an “Oh,” escaped your lips, your eyes lit in wonder and concern. His body wasn’t chiseled, it wasn’t that cliche six-pack that people often fawned over. He was lithe, thin, but held a musculature that showed with each stretch of his abdomen with each breath he took. 

Perhaps others would have found such a scar-riddled body disgusting, but you? You were utterly enraptured and captivated by them. You wondered of the stories they held, but it was also a show of how dangerous the world truly was. But right now, at this moment, there was no danger here.

You were intrigued. You felt the desire to touch them again, to press your lips to them; but perhaps that was just the tingling sensation in your gut telling you such things. Feelings like these had only been felt once before, with him. It was inevitable with what you were planning to do.

Just so long as he didn’t wake up and stop you.

So far the only thing he had done was breathe, and now that he was mostly shirtless, he let out a soft sigh and turned his head into a pillow, his cheek nuzzling against the fabric before he completely ceased to move. You paused in your movements at that, a soft smile at the particularly endearing movement. But he was still asleep, and his breathing hadn’t changed. So that was good. 

Slowly, you brought yourself to lean over him enough and very gently press a small kiss to his exposed cheek, before trailing a kiss to down to his jaw, his neck, and then his sternum. Your kisses were soft and feather light, more of a graze of your lips against his skin than an actual kiss. You hovered over his chest for a moment, looking down at all the scars. You couldn’t help yourself, you were so utterly captivated by them. In their own way, they were beautiful.

Hauntingly beautiful.

Lightly enough, you pressed your lips fully to his chest then; trailing down in a straight line and peppering his abdomen with the same attention. When your mouth pressed against a scar or two, you knew you would be taking your time to kiss them all.

A few light hums left him, which vibrated against your lips as they filled his chest. He had been ticklish, hadn’t he? He took a deep inhale, pressing that scarred flesh closer to your lips. When he exhaled through his nose, his body shifted slightly closer to the natural warmth your body held. 

Then he settled once more. 

You stopped, but only began again once he settled back into his mindless wonderland of dreams. You hoped they were sweet. While you wanted to wake him up, you wanted to do it at a specific time. Somehow you needed to get him worked up enough without actually waking him. So, gently, you peeled the blankets off of him, leaned up after placing one more kiss upon his stomach, and let your left hand trail down to his pajama pants.

You lowered yourself into a more comfortable position, laying your head just above his waist for the time being, as the other arm that had been holding you up had begun to get tired. At first, you trailed your fingers gently across his thighs, before bringing your hand back up, and untying the drawstring pants just enough for you to slip your hand comfortably beneath them. The warmth welcomed you, and you nearly laughed when you realized that all you felt was skin. 

He wasn’t wearing his boxer briefs. 

You squinted. The thought of him possibly having wanted this to happen crossed your mind, but there was no possible way. He was clueless, and you were too. You didn’t even have the idea to do this until just now, so there was no way that he could have known. You traced your hand further down his thigh before trailing it to the place of your mission. 

You grasped his cock in your hand lightly, just enough to give it attention, but hopefully not enough to wake him. With each rise and fall of his chest, you rhythmically attempted to match the pace; if not incredibly slow at first. 

His hips jostled unconsciously, at the strange feeling that was invading his dreams. His hips rolled a bit to try and dislodge it, but when everything stopped moving, so did he, and whatever dreams he had been having were quickly forgotten as comfort filled him once more in his slumber.

You hummed lightly against him, your cheek resting against his stomach as you began your pace, slowly, as he had stopped moving. 

You worried that he would be angry, you worried that he wouldn’t like what you were doing; but upon recalling his words of ‘don’t start something you’re not willing to finish’, or something along those lines (you didn’t really remember), you chased those thoughts out of your mind. If he wanted you to stop, you would. You rose your hand, and then dropped it again, running it up and down his cock in a rhythmic fashion in hopes to offer him some pleasure. 

With each stroke, just as you were about to give up lest your worries eat you alive, you found him growing stiff in your grasp. You paused for a moment, raising your head just slightly, before you regained your confidence and desire to make him feel good and then continued with your movements once more. Experimentally, you brought your thumb to tease the tip for only a moment, and felt the slight twitch of his hips.

But still, he was asleep. He was slowly rocking up into your hand, his mouth now agape as soft moans left him at the arousal filling his system. 

You lifted your head fully then, the moans causing your confidence to suddenly skyrocket. Peeking behind you and still seeing his eyes closed— my _ god _did this man not wake up —you very briefly let him go, just for a second so you could curl your fingers of one hand around the waistband of his pants. 

You moved back up to his face, pressing a chaste kiss to his bottom lip. “Sweetheart,” you whispered, nuzzling your nose just aside his. You weren’t sure if you would get through to him, but you could try. You couldn’t get his pants off of him without his help. “I need you to lift your hips up for a second.” 

“Ocursemedarlin’, ‘im off.” He sleep spoke to you and started kicking his legs weakly, but at least in his doing so, he dislodged his sleep pants enough so that they were now around his thighs. He let out a pleased sigh, nestling his head back into the pillow. “Good nowfer you.”

Why in the nine circles was he so cute? You giggled softly, pressing a full kiss to his lips. “Yes. Thank you.” 

He felt the sleep slowly leave his bones as your lips kissed his. He heard you say something and he sleepily blinked open his eyes. The first thing he noticed, was your beautiful smiling face, the second, was that he was on full display. “Darling?” He wasn’t sure what to ask, so he just sleepily tilted his head towards yours, hoping that he wasn’t blushing too hard. 

Oh, but he was. He was awake now too, apparently. You watched quietly as he looked at himself, and then sleepily looked back to you. “I didn’t want to wake you up yet.” You murmured lightly, pressing your lips back to his briefly. “You’re gorgeous, by the way.” You winked, playfully. You couldn’t help yourself. His blush was adorable.

“What is happening? I have the strangest feeling you’ve been up much longer than I have and that you’ve been… _ playing _.” His gaze dropped to his very hard, very on display erection that was now resting heavily upon his abdomen. 

“You’d be right.” You smiled coyly at him, before letting out a ‘sh’ and pressing your lips to his for a moment, before trailing them down his cheek, his jaw, his neck, and then his chest. You hesitated, though. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want me to continue.” You peeked at him out of your peripherals. 

“I am very surprised. This is one of the strangest things I have ever encountered as I woke! Have… How long have you been up, and how long have I been… like this.” He gave another pointed look at his cock. It was like he was confused by the entire ordeal. 

You didn’t respond. 

It didn’t matter, anyways. He didn’t tell you to stop, and it wasn’t like you had been quiet when you had asked. With those big, endearing ears of his, you doubted he could have missed it, either. Silently, you kissed down his chest and stopped at his abdomen, right where his erection laid. Bringing your hand up to grasp it once more, you slowly began to caress it again. This time, however, you looked up at him curiously.

Now that he was awake, though, you supposed no better time than the present. You had an insatiable desire to taste him for what he was. Without further ado, you looked back down to his erection and brought your mouth to his weeping tip; only to very lightly, very experimentally, drag your tongue across it a single time. 

Alastor froze. He was sure that he was still sleeping. He was about to say something but all that left his mouth was a strangled gasp. Tingles filled his system and he watched as his cock jumped at your touch. “What are you doing?” What was he supposed to do? He sat up in surprise, resting his weight on his elbows to gain a better vantage point at whatever it was you were doing with him.

You were about to press the pad of your tongue over his tip again, all too eager to taste him once more; it was oh, so _ different _ to just feeling him! Your own skin was alight with desire; but it was different this time. It was a desire, similar to before, warm and welcoming, but you didn’t seek out your own satisfaction. That was what made it different. 

When you raised your head away slightly, you continued to feel him up with each stroke. His hardness made your skin tingle, and you were pretty sure you were blushing now, too. “Do you want me to stop?” You didn’t want to stop, but if he wanted you to, you would. You gave his cock an experimental squeeze, but you searched his face for any sign of discomfort or unsatisfaction. 

“I-” His chest was already heaving. There was a welcomed buzzing sensation rolling up his skin and traversing through his veins. “You are welcome to keep going but what’s happening? What are you doing to me?” Every muscle in his body was tense, and it was strange and beautiful, and oh so wonderful. 

You let out a sigh of relief, soft and quiet, but still there. “Well,” You responded, bringing your face back to his aching erection. “I am going to suck on you.” You nearly choked on your breath at your own words, and an intense blush found its way upon your cheeks. Nope. Didn’t like that. You should probably just shut up before you die a second time, this time, from embarrassment. 

And then, instead of just letting your tongue press upon his tip, you opened your mouth and simply allowed his tip to enter. Your tongue swirled experimentally, curiously, around it. Your hand, however, sought after his, while the other held you up. 

He tasted good.

Alastor had ceased to function properly, and when Alastor panicked, he had a habit of doing something that you seemingly held great disdain for. “This is a wonderful surprise, but I am not so sure that you have to do that. I mean, we haven’t even had breakfast yet, and I am sure that there’s no nutritional value for you doing this, and I am not so sure-”

Instead of your hand searching for his, you brought it up and, with a roll of your eyes, pressed it atop his mouth to shut him up. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, before you slowly began to bob your head very, very slowly. He was proportional, so you were already salivating down his cock and onto the bed sheets in a messy manner as you instinctively began to breathe out your nose.

Alastor was glad you had your hand over his mouth, because as soon as your head started to bob on him, his mouth opened, only to suck your fingers into his mouth, to keep him occupied while you sent shockwaves of pleasure up his spine. He tried to stay very still, and it took all that was in him to keep from moving. You were surprised, to say the least, when he sucked your fingers into his mouth. For a good minute, you thought that he was going to bite them off, especially when your fingertips grazed over his sharp teeth. At least he was occupied; for you had a mission to complete. 

There was now a very surprising part of him that wanted to shove your face down as far as it would go just so he could see his cock bulging in your throat. But he wouldn't dare disturb your pace.

Your mouth slowly began to envelop him further, and while you were very, very inexperienced, your instincts told you to hollow your cheeks. And you did just that. You hummed inquisitively over his cock, your tongue trying to swirl around it, but such a task was fruitless. You closed your eyes then, and just focused on the feeling and taste of him. 

You had to remember to breathe through your nose, especially when you went far enough for him to hit the back of your throat. You gagged, and eased up slightly. That had surprised you and didn’t feel all too good, but if he liked it… well, you wouldn’t mind doing it again. 

Your hot little mouth was driving him insane. He had never witnessed such a scene of depravity, at least not performed on him. The way your saliva was dripping down the length of his cock, the way your lips looked while they were stretched over him, and the sight of how your precious cherub cheeks hollowed as you sucked him, there were no words that could describe just how aroused he was. 

Nor were there words to describe all the feelings and new sensations that were filling his body, all stemming from your sweet mouth. Heat, but no this wasn’t just any type of heat. This was coming from inside him, and it was making his skin feel tight. 

Normally he adored being surrounded by soft things and dressed in silk, but right now he craved your skin. And he craved for more of the delicious pleasure you were gifting him. His tongue started leaving smooth circles over your digits, tasting your skin as best he could while his eyes remained locked on the glorious scene in his lap. He wanted to see more. 

You let your fingers go limp in his mouth, but when you began to taste the saltiness of his precum as it increased, you began to double down on your efforts. It was difficult to breathe, sure, but you didn’t give a damn right now. 

Your eyes were closed as you pushed yourself as far as you could go, even as you gagged around him, for you were determined to taste him completely, to feel his warmth and taste him, to feel him cum in your mouth and down your throat. 

Your tongue tried its best to swirl around him, as you could practically feel him throbbing, but with him filling your mouth, it was nearly impossible. You didn’t care about the saliva that glistened down his erection, or how messy it all was becoming, or how you probably wouldn’t hear the end of it once it was finished, all you wanted was for him to feel good.

Gently, you pulled your hand out of his mouth and grabbed his hand; leading it under your shirt. You were feeling particularly needy for some sort of touch. Letting go of his hand, you brought it down to experimentally grope him further, letting everything receive some sort of attention; pushing things up and down and pressing in various ways as if you were uncertain of how to actually do anything. Because you were. You were very uncertain. 

His calloused hand roamed up your body. Your breasts were so soft, the skin was silky against his hand. While his eyes were still focused on the dashing way you swallowed him, his hand took pleasure in the way your nipples hardened under his attention. He pinched and twisted at them gently, taking his time with each as best he could with how distracting everything around him was. But as your hand descended down, to grope and roll his balls in your palm, it had another foreign sensation fill him. He desperately wanted to rock his hips, but it already seemed like you were choking. He never thought of himself as a sexual being, but with you, everything changed.

_ He _ felt changed. 

“Darling, please,” It came out hoarse, ragged and breathy, he wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but this was all too much for him to handle. He needed more and he needed less, all at the same time. All of this sensation and still, he was doing his best not to move because if he lost himself now, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, especially in the throes of such an impassioned moment between you both. 

Your jaw was getting tired, but you needed to taste him. You needed to feel him. You weren’t sure what else to do, because if you continued, he would be down your throat completely, and you weren’t sure if you would survive. You probably would. Probably. 

You eased yourself up, though, taking a deep breath through your nose once you were able to, and despite having zero experience, you tried your best to get him off. You started to trail your tongue around his tip again, because that seemed to be more sensitive, but you also focused your attention completely around it too, just beneath, as you continued to grope him. 

And that was the moment you tasted him completely, and felt him run down your throat. His back suddenly tensed as he barely stopped a moan from flowing out into the room as his head fell backwards, his eyes now on the ceiling as wave after shockwave flowed over him. It was like being back in the ocean, as waves lapped happily up his skin, and took him out to sea. But this sea was only you, and your exquisite mouth, and those waves were stemming from his cock. He lost all of his bones and went completely limp underneath you. All he could hear was the heavy beat of his heart echoing through his veins.

You slowed yourself to a stop. It was hard to swallow at first, but you managed. Letting up, you brought yourself to crawl up a few paces just so you could sit upon his abdomen, completely uncaring of the fact that his erection was just a few inches behind you. 

You lowered your face to his, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips; even if that meant he could taste himself still. Your jaw hurt, your neck hurt, but it probably had to do with the position you had been in. Still, when you hovered your lips over his after a moment, you rested your forehead upon his. “Good morning.” You whispered.

“Darling,” His panting was slowing as he caught the breath he didn’t realize had been lost to him. “This has been a wonderful morning. Thank you.” He cupped your cheek and allowed his eyes to close. 

Perhaps, even if your goal had been to wake him up, you could both take a siesta for another hour. You lowered yourself to him fully, and closed your eyes as well, your head tucked beneath his chin. 


	49. Web of Lies

It was odd that such a slow and luxurious hug, formed upon the entanglement of limbs and tranquil breaths, could be one of the few things that was able to pacify your worries and woes so… effortlessly. It ushered the two of you into a state of contentment that was, generally speaking, addicting. A fleeting feeling of security that you so desperately craved in your debauched day-to-day lifestyle. 

It was notably something that the denizens in your plane of existence often lived without. It was easy to awaken with someone for simple pleasures that were bought with cash, but  _ this? _ Money could not buy such happiness. It caused you to desire such a sensation for far longer than you were probably allotted to, but at the very least, you could try— right? 

A carousel of thoughts and emotions that were bound together by the strings of fate, all formed and pressed into your waking mind; a plethora of different scenarios and possible solutions to problems that had not yet risen, and would no doubt make its presence known throughout the day. 

What events were to be experienced were often fretted over, but in the moment where you slowly but reluctantly uncovered your arm that rested over your eyes to blink blearily, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Perhaps it was because the position you were in pacified any worries that would have warped your own, rather credulous mind. Whatever it was, it was the least of your concerns.

In that moment, there were few realities that could compete with the one you currently experienced, and even fewer that could best it. 

You blinked once, twice, and then a multitude of times as your eyes began to adjust to the sudden lighting of the room. Your eyebrows furrowed as a small sound of discontent reverberated in your throat; for you were entirely certain in that moment that if you had the choice of sleeping three years like Alastor claimed, you very well would have. 

The mattress dipped underneath the weight of your elbow as you pushed yourself up half-way to peer out over the expanse of the room. 

Easily enough, the sensation of deja-vu came to wash over you once more when you indulged yourself with the informal and unperturbed expression that graced Alastor’s face. You reached over and very gently brushed what hair had begun to tickle his forehead away. A swarm of butterflies flooded your stomach as the soft twitching of his expression gave away the fact that he was dreaming.

You hoped those dreams were sweet.

The man slept like a hibernating bear, you had come to realize, but it was also one of the only times in your existence that you had actually experienced how utterly peaceful he could appear. The smile lines that were permanently etched into his face were something so rarely observed, because more often than not, a beaming grin would take its place and hide such pleasantries from view.

It was hard to believe that you had already woken him up, but when he moved in his rest, you were greeted by his still unbuttoned shirt.

Thankfully enough, he had managed to recover himself with his pants. Modesty or not, you were relieved that, if someone did dare to enter his quarters, they would not be met with a sight that would undoubtedly scar them for life. Though, you were rather sure that no one would dare. Up to this point, you were the only one that had risked such a thing. Any others, would face drastic consequences. 

But that was all speculation— which generally was all you could do when it came to him. 

Other than a few choice details of his past, you barely knew him as a person. All you knew, though, that a title such as his was nothing more than that. A self-earned title in ways, but nothing more. You knew he was more to you than that. You wondered though, as to the reasons of the posters upon alleyways that you had seen; a drawing of him, but scrawled upon it often held warnings of:

_ Beware!!! Him!! _

_ Don’t fuck with him! _

_ Don’t trust the Radio Demon! _

_ Radio Sounds? Stay away! _

Along with countless others. You felt ashamed to think of such truths so early (was it early? You really needed an alarm clock) in the morning. Swallowing your pride, you began to think back on the moment before you had fallen asleep the prior night; where you had moved to touch one of his ears, only for it to flinch out of your reach.

Guilt rose up in the form of a frown that touched your lips at the memory. You were a fool for having been so rough with him, but oftentimes, you didn’t know what you were doing until you actually  _ did  _ it. Frustration didn’t appease those actions, and in no situation was such a show acceptable. 

But you were in Hell, and in your own fear, you had forgotten such a thing. Try as you might, it was impossible to get him off of your mind, no matter what memory cascaded through the hundreds of thoughts that rooted in your head.

In your moment of melancholy, you had nearly forgotten the peace of the occasion, and sure, the way you had originally woken him up was... something, but now you wanted to keep the moment implanted in your mind for the rest of eternity. 

You wanted to stay this way, entangled in a pile of limbs, and the natural warmth that emitted from both of your bodies.

You barely realized that, after you had pushed his hair out of his face, because good lord did he have a lot, your fingertips trailed hesitantly down the side of his jaw. Your eyes had become lidded and soft, laying upon your side as you continued with your small ministrations of affection, before you leaned over gently and pressed your lips to his. 

It was a chaste kiss, but it didn’t make it any less sweet. If anything, everything about this predicament was pleasant. You leaned over him fully then, just as you propped yourself up with your hand, your other hand resting just upon his shoulder. Your lips molded perfectly with his, and in all honesty, it was all you could ever ask for. There was a groan, and then a breath fanned across your face. 

When you reopened your eyes and pulled away to be greeted with whatever may be in store for you, you weren’t expecting to feel his arms wrap around you. You didn’t even have time to react properly, because one moment you were above him, and now you were staring  _ up  _ at him. All the while, he spoke:

“Darling! Good morrow! How are you on this fine day?” 

He greeted you as if you were two pals catching up after not seeing each other after an inexplicable amount of time. Your face twisted up in amusement, your eyes crinkling in delight as a soft laugh escaped your lips. He looked absolutely boyish with how his grin widened; but you did not mind the sharpness of his teeth— his smile was as gentle as could be. 

Whatever words would have left you were silenced as he lowered himself to press his lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes, getting drunk in the feeling of his affections. Speaking of drunk, you wondered if he had a hangover. Yours, when you had them, were absolutely horrid. 

“You look lovely in the morning by the way,” his face lowered to yours once more as he rubbed his nose in an Eskimo-kiss, just as you had done to him on a few occasions. It was something your mother had done to you as a child. Huh. Funny you remembered that. 

“Absolutely charming.” He finished, pulling away.

“You know,” you reached up and poked him on his nose, “you’re… off when you’re drunk.” Because it was just like you to ruin the moment. Yes, he was off in more ways than you could explain. Irritable. Scary. A small sigh fell from you as you looked off to the side for a heartbeat. You weren’t going to think of the bad parts. At least, you would try not to.

Generally, hopeful thinking could only get you so far.

“Oh darling, I regret that you had to see all of that.” Alastor’s voice was plagued by sleep still, but it softened at the mention of what he had done. 

“You remember?” You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

He nodded. “Husker’s specials are rather intense and I had been too foolish to assume that I would be just fine. I hadn’t meant to make such a lovely announcement so public—”

“I know.” Well, you didn’t know. And you probably would have let him ramble if you were willing to get into your own mind. You didn’t want to get into this right now. Not… at the moment. Your mind was exhausting and  _ you  _ were trying to get up. You just wanted to enjoy the morning and not the drama that came with the daily life of Hell.

“Yes, I speak too much.” He murmured, and just as you were about to tell him that it was okay, he continued on. “I… I hope you can forgive me for this as well.” 

A confused expression crossed you as you watched him until you could watch him no more, his head ducking out of view as you felt the softness of his hair, the gentle tickle of his breath, and the soft placement of kisses and nips upon your neck. 

You took in a deep inhale, before releasing it in a shaky sigh. Instinctively, your head tilted towards his own in an attempt to be rid of the feeling upon such sensitive flesh. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, hell no. You did, it was just… it tickled. But it was a good ticklish. It had your stomach doing flips and somersaulting. You wondered if this was how it felt when you played with his ears.

You had to bite your tongue to hold back a laugh, especially as his lips moved with each word he uttered. You could feel the vibration against your skin, the rumble of his own body.

“You are far too good for me, my dear little sharkling.” He pressed a heavy kiss under the line of your jaw, and you tilted your head up to give him whatever access he wanted, especially now that you were getting used to the feeling. You brought your right hand up to the back of his neck, where you played with the finer pieces of hair there, before allowing your hand to slip down to rest at your own side once more. 

You watched as he moved to run his nose along your cheek, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “I even recall apologizing to you. Please know I meant it.” He shut his eyes, and in doing so, you shut yours, even as you felt the pressure of his forehead on your own. You held onto that moment for as long as you could. Your question slipped from your lips before you could even stop it.

“No more Husker Specials?” You opened your eyes half-way then.

“No more Husker Specials.” He reassured you, and when the pressure against your forehead let up and he got off of you, you followed after him, pushing yourself up with your elbows.

“Now then.” He snapped his fingers, or rather, performed the ‘snappity thing’ as you had so lovingly dubbed it. In doing so, he summoned forth a lovely array of breakfast foods. You weren’t all that surprised that he would make such a spectacle out of the ‘most important meal of the day’, after all, he had done it every single day of this week. 

“I slept in, so that means  _ you _ need to continue eating a real breakfast.” He leaned over and settled his lips onto your chin, you looked at him from the corner of your eyes, paired with your own smile. “Thank you for the wake up call earlier, how dubiously arousing you are, little one.” His eyes were smouldering as they took you in. 

You opened your mouth, and then closed it; already feeling the heat forming across your cheeks. A nervous laugh escaped you as you anxiously rubbed the back of your neck. “You’re welcome.” 

He nodded once and leaned back to fold the blankets over his lap. “Perhaps one morning I shall return the favor.” A hum rolled through the air. 

You were glad that he had at least the decency not to play that stupid laugh track, especially as your breath hitched in your lungs and heat began to blossom across your face. You were pretty sure that was the exact reaction he wanted though. 

You brought your hand to your cheek and felt the warmth that resided there. 

Wonderful.

“Now  _ I’m _ burning up.” You whispered to yourself as you took in as deep of a breath as you could manage. You tilted your head to observe how the corners of his eyes crinkled and how his smile stretched to its limits. 

_ There _ was the self-satisfied bastard that you knew. 

You squinted playfully at him. “Yeah,” you said quietly, clearing your throat. “Good luck.” Louder this time, perhaps not as confident as you would have liked, but such an intimate topic was bound to make you feel uncomfortably warm. You managed a wink as you referred back to when he had told you the exact same thing.

Needless to say, breakfast was completed with small talk, all while filling your stomach. Flirts were exchanged, waffles were had along with a multitude of other breakfast foods. No incidents, thankfully. What silence there had been was peaceful; broken only when your utensils hit the plate or you repositioned yourself into a more comfortable position. 

Alastor had continued to try and feed you more variations although you had said you had enough, even though you tried to appease him by taking yet another bite out of a strawberry. He only really stopped once you forced yourself out of bed. The cold floor greeted you, your face twisting up as an ‘ah’ fell from you. 

Socks or no, he really needed carpeting. 

Though, you supposed it wouldn’t really help with the fact that he had a legitimate swamp in his room. 

You extended your arms, leaning back, and then forward as you stretched. He was learning, a bit annoying at best, but he was overall good to you. And you were thankful for that. Padding around to his side of the bed, right as he peeled the covers off of himself and stood before you. In all of his seven-foot glory (god  _ damn  _ was he tall), you stood on your tippy-toes and pressed a quick smooch to his cheek. 

“Gotta go and do adult things.” You commented with a silly smile, falling back onto your heels.

“Very well. I’m going to go and do... Alastor things.” He responded briefly before he returned the affection, bending at the waist and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

You held your finger up, ready to question him over what exactly that entailed, before he interrupted you with a snap of his fingers. He was easily adorned in his regular attire, and you found yourself envious over how he could do so much with minimal effort. Where you had to actually  _ do  _ things, he could do it with a simple snap of his fingers. 

“See you later, my darling.” He bid you adieu before he disappeared in true Alastor flare; for as soon as you reopened your eyes from a blink, you were left alone to your own leisure. 

A defeated sigh left you as a soft, but amused breath followed. He was always so eager to get to the next point; whether it be to find out the true root of a conversation, or simply to just get started for the day. The man simply didn’t dawdle, where you took your time to escape the confines of sleep and otherwise. 

In more ways than one, opposites attract. 

It was quiet when you finally left the room; void of the usual chaos that originated from the residents of the hotel. Alastor claimed that silence was not something for him, but the lack of sound that you experienced as you traipsed down the old, run-down hallway suggested otherwise. The only sound that accompanied you were your own footsteps and the sound of the hotel settling in. 

The hotel itself could have been eons old, held up by magic or some sort of miracle to ensure it didn’t collapse to its bare foundations. In some ways, you related. Hope was what kept you going, it was what caused  _ everyone  _ to keep going. Hope was your magic. Without hope to hold onto, you were nothing more than shell of someone.

A husk.

As much as the name Husk suggested he was no more than a fragment of the man he once was, he too had to have some sort of hope… right? Hope of winning a gambling game, hope of… not having a hangover. Or something. A frown touched your lips. You didn’t want to believe him to be a lost cause, because then you’d just be agreeing with everyone who dubbed him ‘Husk’. 

No. You  _ didn’t _ believe that was all he was. 

He showed you that he cared in his own… uncaring sort of way. But still! It was something. Even if Husk had given up on himself, you wouldn’t. Not if there was a chance for him to  _ be  _ someone. You couldn’t help thinking of such possibilities— he was your friend, even if he didn’t seem like it or necessarily ‘give a shit’, in his own words. Man, you were starting to sound like Charlie.

He seemed passionate about drinking, gambling, and doing magic. Perhaps the magic part was something you could bring to Charlie’s attention— maybe he would become a magician. 

And his stage name would be The Cat in the Hat.

The possibilities were slim, and he would more than likely laugh in your face and just continue to waste his afterlife away by drinking some more, but you could hope. Hope was the only salvation that you and the other denizens of Hell would ever have, if Charlie didn’t achieve her goal.

When you stood in front of your door, you mentally prepared yourself for the destruction that Angel Dust had made prior. When you and Vaggie had worked on the computer, you had managed to push all of the stray pieces of clothing into the closet, just for decency’s sake. But now you actually had to organize them. You let your hand rest on the knob for a long while before you turned it and let yourself in.

The space held a lot of memories. Some good, some bad, some neutral. It had been your area since the very beginning, but now it didn’t hold as much attachment to you as when you had left it. For some odd reason or another, Alastor’s room had begun to turn into your own space of safety as well. Which overall felt strange and made an indescribable sense of excitement ricochet on your nerves. 

You supposed, you would grow to accept it more easily given time.

Well, no better time than the present. Taking in a deep inhale, you released it with a quick sigh; your shoulders slumping as you moved towards your closet. Resting your hand on the handle, you pulled it back. There it was, all of your poor clothes pried from their organized spots. Lowering yourself to your knees, you began to reorganize the mess: shirts with shirts, pants with pants, shoes with shoes, the whole shebang. 

You were pretty damn certain that the next time you saw Angel—

“OI,  _ TOOTS!”  _

You stopped rummaging through your attire, raising your head to look behind you and to the door, where you were beginning to hear the fast-approaching clack of heels on hardwood. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. There was a knock at first, and then another, and they only continued to increase in intensity until your door was about two seconds from being cast off from its hinges.

You were tempted to just ignore him.

“I KNOW YER IN THERE!” Angel yelled through the door, and the moment you heard a  _ crack,  _ you stood up, put your clothes to the side, and exited the closet.

“ _ What!?  _ I’m coming! Stop banging on my door, you’re going to break it even more!” You speed-walked over to it, casting a glance over to the line that signified a crack. Well, there was definitely room for renovations. Honestly, you doubted some of the demons in this household knew their own strength. 

You grasped the knob and yanked it open, to which you were greeted by a very disheveled, very uncharacteristic looking Angel Dust. His hair was spiked in different directions, and you weren’t sure if you could see dark circles through fur, but you were willing to bet a pretty dime that that was what those were. Even his fluff was full out on display. You hoped for sanity’s sake that they weren’t cleavage.

“Banging against a door is what I’m good at!” Apparently, even in such a dire moment that absolutely, one hundred percent couldn’t have waited another minute, the effeminate spider  _ had _ to make a sex joke. He brushed past you the moment your door gave an inch, and the clothes that had been folded atop your bed were brushed off and thrown to the floor to make himself comfortable.

“Well, make yourself at home why don’t you…” You muttered under your breath as you closed the door behind you. He was clearly agitated, for reasons unknown to you, but you were beginning to feel the inkling of your own annoyance as well. He was staring with a look akin to expectation the entire time, his knee bouncing. You let your eyes fall upon him, and then to your clothes, and then back at him again, before you gave in and decided to continue to, at the very least, put  _ those  _ away for the moment. 

But he was still staring at you.

“What?” You walked past him before leaning down to get the shirt off of the ground. 

“Don’t say  _ ‘what’ _ ,” he mocked in a higher pitched voice, “ya know what!” Angel stared at you in expectation, as if you could read his mind.

You stared at him blankly. “Okay first,” you stood back up, moving over to your bureau, “I don’t sound like that.” 

“Yeah ya do.” He quipped.

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye as you opened the drawer and put the clothes in. You turned around, then. “ _ Second,  _ I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” 

“You and Smiles!?” He explained it like it was the most obvious thing, and in his mind, it was. The problem was clear and the fact that it didn’t click with you only served to rile him up more. He crossed his ridiculously long limbs and let a frown form upon his face. His mismatched eyes held an… odd sense of negativity to them, in a manner that didn’t really suit him. 

_ Frustration?  _ He was frustrated with you?

Which was news to you, because you were pretty damn sure he had been one of the individuals who had been excited to get the two of you together! “... What about us?” Did he want deets? Did he want the goods? The hot tea? What was he here for? You could literally count the amount of times he had been in your room on a single hand; and it wasn’t a lot. 

He rarely confided in you, or anyone for that matter. 

“That whole big announcement he made!” He exclaimed, all four of his limbs flying out from his side to accentuate the point before he leaned forward. His eyes were wide, his tone frantic, but his voice was a bit quieter, thankfully. “You two ain’t really serious... Are ya?” There was a whirlpool of emotion so rarely seen that lurked deep within his gaze. 

You stiffened before you began to rub your arm in an anxious movement, seeking comfort that wasn’t there. Was he upset that you hadn’t told him? You were pretty sure he had known; it had been obvious with how Alastor had begun to remain so close to you. 

Husk had picked up on it quickly, Charlie, Vaggie, and even Niffty. “You’re not happy about us being together?” It still felt invigorating to say that. To say with confidence that yes, you two  _ were  _ together. You took a step towards him. 

“Or are… you asking about the announcement and if he was serious about that, because oh boy do I have a story to tell  _ you.”  _ Another step was taken, and then another, as you found your way to his side before you hoisted yourself onto your bed to sit side-by-side with him.

The arachnid’s absurd height was even more noticeable when sitting right beside him, but upon you actually doing so, he hunched over, two of his arms remaining crossed while the other two moved to support him on the mattress. 

“I can tell that Smiles was pretty fuckin’ serious, toots. That’s the big problem ‘ere.” His fingers were tapping in synchronization with his left knee as it continued to bounce. He scowled and rolled his eyes, a huff escaping him. Seriously, every action he made created some kind of noise, he was being a complete drama queen.

“Yer not serious though right? Ya can’t be  _ that _ stupid.” 

You blinked at him. From what you gathered from the previous times he had willingly  _ spoken _ to you, something had been bothering him. Except for that last time where he had made you wear lingerie and actually paid for a few things. You still had to thank him for paying, but you doubted right now was the time. “Uh,” You began. Your silence was enough of an answer. “Weeeell…?” You shrugged your shoulders with a hopeful, appeasing smile. 

“Holy shit.” He whispered under his breath, and you immediately heard red alarms going off in your mind when he stood up. He began to pace around the room, and you were left to stare at him with wide eyes, until he stopped in place. “I can’t believe ya really are that fuckin’ stupid!” With a shout, looking up to the ceiling as if was cursing God himself, he spun around, grabbed your arms, yanked you off of the bed and started to drag you out of your room. “Come on, you and I are gonna have a  _ chat _ .”

Why did that sound like a threat? 

It was hard to keep up with him in general, but this? This was nearly impossible. “W-Will you slow down? Why are you so upset about it? And I! I am  _ not  _ stupid, thank you very much!” 

“Uh,  _ yeah _ ya are!” 

Everything happened so fast. One minute you were in your room, the next in the hallway, and now you were on his bed. He had a plethora of emotions scorning his face, but the one that stood out most to you was the absolutely prominent conflict. You blinked up at him. He stood in front of you with two of his hands on his hips, the other set tightly crossed over his fluffy chest.

The room reeked of sex. Your nose crinkled, before you stood up. You didn’t want to sit on his bed, especially if his messy sheets signified anything.

“Get the sand outta yer vag, the one-eyed neat freak already changed the sheets.” He snorted before he continued his pacing in front of you. It was becoming exceedingly clear that Angel himself couldn’t sort out his feelings, and you found yourself even more confused. 

You made a face. “So, this couldn’t have been done in my room? Why are we even in here? I mean, like, I don’t really care, but uh… why?” He rarely talked to you, and honestly, you felt more like a kid about to be reprimanded than anything.

“You know what, forget that. It’s not important. Why do you care?” Maybe that came out a bit harsher than you would have liked, but you were literally being cornered here! 

He let out a deep sigh, his head hanging before lifting his chin up to give you a deadpan scowl. 

“I  _ don’t _ care.” He snipped back.

Of course he didn’t. You rolled your eyes.

“Didn’t you  _ want  _ us to be together? You seemed pretty damn excited for the date!” So why was he so upset about it? 

“Look. I ain’t got a problem with ya getting Smile’s willy wet and yer own rocks off in the short term, but what he said was  _ serious _ shit. Do ya even realize what yer gettin’ in ta?”

“Uh, yeah.” You said immediately, defensively. You slowly sat back down. This was going to take awhile, might as well make yourself comfortable. Despite you having the exact same concerns as he did the previous night, you were honestly feeling so attacked right now. 

“Well, not really. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and I get what you’re saying, but he was drunk, y’know? Um.” You weren’t sure what to say. You rubbed the back of your neck and averted your gaze. “I… spoke to him about it last night.”

You shook your head. “And I may have already forgiven him too... ” You murmured under your breath.

The look of shock and sheer disbelief he gave you made you feel idiotic.

“Don’t look at me like that!” You defended. “This is my first rodeo, man. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I think I’m doing pretty well! There’s no instructions in Hell, apparently! I did what I felt was right, and I’m standing by it. He was drunk.  _ I _ don’t remember what happens when I’m drunk. Even though it was a really stupid thing to do and he just put a target on my head-” You stood up then, trying to gain some height. He towered over you so it didn’t do much. 

You began to pace. “But it’s not… It’s not like I didn’t have a target on my head before, right?  _ Right? _ Associating with Charlie—”

He smacked one of his hands against his forehead as he listened to you try to defend yourself. “It ain’t about him making an announcement, ya dumb broad, it’s that fact yer both so fuckin’ serious all of a sudden.” He uncrossed his second set of arms and finally stopped his pacing when the snuffling of his sweet pig caught his attention. 

He leaned down and picked Fat Nuggets up, giving the creature a cheek nuzzle. The pig squealed happily, both at the sight of you and the affection. “The guy’s yer boss. Don’t ya think that’s just a little  _ too _ conflictin’?”

You would have reached out to pet it if it wasn’t three feet above you and you... weren’t currently lost in your thoughts. Maybe it was too serious, too fast. But you were down here for eternity, weren’t you? “Well  _ maybe  _ you should have started off with that to begin with.” You huffed out, going over to the wall to lean against it.

“He’s not my boss.” You stated.

“Ya work here dontcha?” His tone was flat, but full of sass. “And he’s one of the main honchos in charge ain’t he?” You blinked at him. “Then he’s yer boss.” 

“No he’s not.” You deadpanned. You didn’t want to believe it. 

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, suga’tits, but yer in way too deep already.” he snorted.

“He’s not my boss!” You declared. “I told him before he wasn’t my boss. I used to work under him, and now I don’t. I even returned his supplies.”

“It’s the same  _ fucking _ shit! Yer not gettin’ it! Ya don’t even see the big problem and it’s so obvious!” His temper flared, and he bounced Fat Nuggets in his arms, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Look. I got a story for ya. Maybe that’ll get through that thick ass skull of yer’s.”

You had never really heard him yell out of anger before, at least. That shut you up. For like, a second. You blinked warily at him. “Why are you so vague? Why don’t you just tell me the problem? Maybe then I can fix it, or we can talk about it like actual adults instead of bickering back and forth and you threatening me with a bedtime story!” 

“Nah nah nah,  _ shaddup _ . Yer gonna sit right there and listen to this guy’s story whether you like it or not.” He pointed to his bed.

You pointed at the door. “I could just walk out, you know. Don’t threaten me.” You said, as you threatened the eight foot spider with the most threatening face you could muster. Coming from you, it wasn’t threatening at all.

Angel Dust gave you a seriously annoyed look. He repositioned Fat Nuggets to his top set of arms and before a third pair popped out. He flexed his fingers. “Yer gonna need a few extra hands to get past me.” He sneered. “And even if ya did, ya really think I wouldn’t be right on your ass like a horny guy in the club?”

“I mean, you  _ are  _ a prostitute, so it makes sense.” You murmured.

“Exactly. So shut the fuck up and listen.” 

“Fine!” You threw your hands up and walked to the sex-stenched bed again. You sat on it. “ _ Fine _ .” Guess he was gonna tell you a bedtime story. 

“Finally!” He exclaimed, letting his extra set of arms retract. He pulled out his vanity chair to sit across from you, straddling it and resting his free arms on the back of the chair.

“Yer gonna be thankin’ me later. I don’t usually do charity work like this ya know. But maybe Charlie’s whole ‘redemption’ bullshit is makin’ me more sympathetic than usual. Plus, I know ignorance is bliss and you seem like one real fuckin’ happy idiot- but I gotta at least get this out there.”

You crossed your legs criss-cross-apple-sauce. “So…” You trailed off. You weren’t even sure what was going on right now. Apparently Angel didn’t like that you were dating your ‘boss’, but he liked that you could get your rocks off and his willy wet so. What the fuck man?

“So look, a’ had this uh... friend from the business, see?” His accent seemed thicker, leaning his cheek into his palm, while his free hand played with the snuggling Fat Nuggets. “His name was Anthony, real hot guy, knew how to do his shit and get paid the big bucks. He was seriously an all star, I mean- talk about a pro!” He grinned, his gold tooth glinting as he praised this ‘friend of his’.

An idol then, okay. Anthony was a pretty basic name. You were a bit peeved that he dragged you out of your room and demanded you to sit down and listen to his fairy tale, where you could actually be doing something productive. “Nice name.” You blurted before you could stop yourself. 

“It’s a fuckin’ _ great _ name.” He snarked back at you. “Not the point, look Anthony had his troubles, he may be hot shit but he had his own…  _ issues  _ with the biz. One day he met the big guy in charge, who basically told him everything he wanted to hear and was willing to give ’im the best gigs. It was all he could talk about to anyone who would listen, to his friends, his sista, anyone. This was a big fuckin’ deal!” His hold on his pig shifted just slightly.

You remained quiet, resting your elbows in your lap. 

“ _ Look _ . We all sleep around with eachotha. It’s normal, and really inevitable for us to sleep with the bosses. They may be jerks but I mean… they know their way around. If ya know what I mean.” His eyebrows lifted suggestively as he grinned at you. “And doll, I know a sexed out haze when I see one. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

You choked on your breath, eyes widening. Your face began to heat up. “We didn’t have sex, though.” Your voice was quieter.

“Well, yer definitely foolin’ around!” His eyes looked over your face and his grin sharpened with the tease. “Ya keep rubbin’ at your jaw.” You didn’t even notice. “Have fun on your trip down the lazy river with Smiles? When yer ready for tips I’ve got plenty!” He winked.

“No! Wait, what? Fuck, what the fuck, Angel?” You sputtered out feverishly. “Can we  _ PLEASE _ get back to the story. Anthony met a boss! The… the boss, uh.” Honestly, you already forgot it. What was the point to this story again?

“Oh, yeah.” He blinked as he came back to his own story. “Well it was all fun and games at first but then things started gettin’...  _ serious _ . Boss started being real controllin’ and fuckin’ obsessive.” He hugged Fat Nuggets closer, pulling his long legs up against his chest.

You weren’t sure if it was something personal, because you barely knew the arachnid at all, but he seemed to really care about what had happened. The dude ‘Anthony’, seemed to have been in a bad spot. But you weren’t sure how this was supposed to do with anything you were going through. If anything, you were happy. 

“... I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Are you trying to say Alastor is going to get controlling and obsessive? Because, sorry to break it to you, but this has already happened.” You had already gone through it. 

You paused. “... Don’t you remember?” Quieter.

“Yah, I remember. And don’t think Anthony didn’t notice it start. You call that bullshit out and it’s all ‘oh no baby I’m really sorry- I won’t eva hurt ya, you know that dontcha? You should know betta!’ and all the pretty gifts they shower ya in… it’s always the best before it’s the fuckin’  _ worst. _ ”

That was what got you to shut up and listen, because you were starting to see where this was headed. No. He wouldn’t hurt you. He had already hurt you though before, would he do it again? You bit your lip and rolled it between your teeth. He had been obsessive and possessive over you when you had first met him, hell, he even  _ said  _ he wouldn’t stop even if you had said ‘no’. 

“The sad truth is guys like that don’t  _ fuckin’ change, _ doll. Ya really think they do. They make ya think they do, that yer crazy for still bein’ suspicious of ‘em.” His voice was quiet now, but as if he caught himself looking vulnerable, he changed his tone and sat up straight. Fat Nuggets let out a small sound of surprise but his owner ignored the piggy protests.

“Oh and then! And THEN! Ha- they go right back to the same shit they were doin’ to ya before.” He seemed reinvigorated, a bit lost in his own storytelling as his excitement for the situation grew. 

“A-Anthony for example! The big boss was policin’ every little thing he did. Everyone he talked ta’. He wasn’t allowed to have any fun that Boss didn’t approve of, not allowed to talk to anyone Val didn’t say he could talk ta’- don’t leave the studio, don’t eat this, don’t snort that- don’t talk to your fuckin’ twin sister you  _ miss like FUCK!” _ His voice rose, and it was all punctuated by a squeal from Fat Nuggets, the small pig squirming in his tight grip. 

With a startled sound and a swear, he immediately loosened his grip and let the pig go. Fat Nuggets trotted right over to you, jumping onto the bed and settled into your lap.

You stared with wide eyes at him, and everything that he had said began to make sense. You knew there was someone named Val.. You  _ knew _ he was having trouble with him. Was… he telling you what was happening to him? You averted your gaze for a moment as you watched as Fat Nuggets made himself comfortable. 

You sighed. 

He inhaled, his arms hanging at his sides before recrossing over his chest tightly. He looked away from you. “Ya see-”

“Are you Anthony?” You cut him off.

His eyes widened for a moment, something that you took note of as his mouth hitched in a deep frown. He looked back to you, and you were met with the same dead-pan expression that he always bore. “Do I  _ look _ like I’d have a bitch-ass name like Anthony?” He rolled his eyes, raising a gloved hand when you were about to say ‘yes’.

“It ain’t about that anyway. Look just… take my advice, toots. Don’t catch feelings for yer boss— for a guy like Alastor. Before ya know it, ya won’t be allowed to be you anymore.” He recrossed his arms. “Yer even worse off, cause you’d have nowhere to go.”

“I-” You faltered. You shouldn’t believe him. You should go to Alastor and tell him what he said. You shouldn’t trust him though, apparently? Your instincts had been right, haven’t they? You got into this too fast. He had said he would never stop. Maybe you really  _ were _ stupid. What if he actually lost himself again? What if then he couldn’t stop himself? What if… him being drunk was his real personality? 

The  _ real _ Alastor? 

But alas, you also felt so warm and fuzzy around him and your heart felt so light, where it had once felt so heavy and dark.

Seeing your growing anxiety, a look of concern crossed Angel’s face, and he appeared almost… sympathetic. “For what it’s worth, ya probably ain’t gonna be around here long if Charlie’s shitty plan has any merit.”

“I’m not going to Heaven.” You whispered out. That was something you were certain of. You were staring at your shoes and watching as Fat Nuggets chewed on the lace. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. And now, right when you were finally beginning to feel safe and secure, when you were actually beginning to discover some of these… feelings, now, if he was right, they were suddenly all wrong. 

And nothing broke your heart more. 

“What makes ya so sure? Ya got a betta chance than any of us broken harlequin babies in this shit pot we’re stuck in.”

“Because when I got down here, you were the first one that greeted me.” You looked up at him with a misty gaze. “You were the one the introduced me to everyone. You actually made me feel… like I belonged, sort of? I just— You guys are my friends. I can’t leave you.” You picked up Fat Nuggets then and settled him next to you so you could stand up.

“I know! I know you don’t want to be my friend. I know you despise that term, I just. I don’t know what to believe. We could be stuck in a fucking hologram and I wouldn’t be any wiser. Y’know, I’m not anyone imp-” you were cut off by a scoff.

“Ya really are a fuckin’ ditz, doll. Wantin’ to stay down here for something so…  _ ugh _ .” He sounded frustrated. He rubbed his face before running it through his hair.

“You wouldn’t do the same?”

He let his hands fall to his sides then. “A chance to really get the fuck away from all this?” He looked out the window and into the city that he thought he would never escape from.

He remained quiet for a long moment, and you remained still, your hand capturing your elbow. “Depends what's on the other side I guess. I would really be fuckin’ bored if there wasn’t at least a little coke or somethin’ fun upstairs. Even angels have ta party right?” It sounded sort of weak, like Angel was searching for an excuse to rag on heaven.

“Guess so.” You felt almost in a daze, and the taste in your mouth was sour. You felt nauseated. You had not felt nausea like this in a very, very long time. “But… but what if you’re wrong? What if he’s not like Val? Or this ‘boss’? I just— lets say you’re right, okay? Let’s- let’s say your right.” Your heart felt heavy. It hurt. He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be.

“What do I do?”

He had given you gifts, checkmark. An assortment of them, actually. Cleaning supplies, pretty outfits, the desk, the roses, that party. He had also been incredibly possessive, too. Alastor ignored what you had wanted in favor of what he wanted. Angel couldn’t be right. He couldn’t  _ be right.  _

“Ugh, I mean yer already in it pretty deep and what’s worse is you gave him the incling it was mutual. Pining and shit is whateva, but you actually fell for the romantic shit…” Angel rubbed the back of his neck. “Look uh… Anthony’s boss always cleaned up his act for a little while when called out on his horseshit. That’ll work to at least keep the temper down, and the occasional handy wouldn’t hurt.”

He looked at your hands, making a face. “Although, I’ll have to get ya some lotion or something- those look like they’ll give a chafing nightmare of a handjob.”

You weakly smiled up at him, very, very weakly. You felt weak. You probably  _ were  _ weak. You followed his gaze to your hands, and stared at them for a long minute. And then you began to think about all the  _ good  _ you two had, how he legitimately made you happy. Your throat began to close up as your eyes glistened with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to rub away the tears, either. 

But you had to hold out on the hope that it was real. 

That you weren’t a fool. 

“W-what if it’s real? What if you’re wrong?” You couldn’t bear to look at him, so you trained your eyes on Fat Nuggets. Fear fluttered through you, but hope once again reigned supreme.

Angel Dust was quiet for a long time, and he looked you dead in the eye, thinking for a moment longer before finally speaking. “Then you might’ve actually found true love, toots.”

That littlest flame of hope fluttered forth, before it got doused out by a bucket of ice cold water.

His face turned to a grimace as he waved a gloved hand. “But I’ve lost count of how many Dames and James who’ve said the exact same thing about their bosses, and they ain’t around anymore. Ya either get out or yer done for. Ang—  _ Anthony  _ got out too ya know, but every day is a new day he could get dragged back.”

You weren’t sure  _ how  _ to feel. But everything he said had paired up nicely with what Alastor had done. People couldn’t change, he said. Not people like  _ him _ . But why not? Why couldn’t they change? Were they too far gone? Was Alastor at a point of no return? Were  _ you?  _ Were you foolish enough to believe that there was still some hope? 

A chance? 

Yes. Yes you were.

Angel could quite literally see the newfound determination on your face. His story went on deaf ears after all. He took a step forward before he turned you around and ushered you out, patience was worn thin. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya Doll. I tried. Now get the hell outta my room.”

“Wait—“ You dug your heels into the ground as best you could. “No, wait, stop it. I just. I-“ You were in an internal war with yourself.

“Ya ain’t listening so what good was talkin’ in the first place!?” He pushed you out into the hallway.

You stumbled forward before whipping around. “I am listening! I  _ was _ listening! I just— how do you expect me to believe it so easily!?”

“If ya opened yer eyes you’d see this shit happens all the time! I was just tryin’ to help ya out. Do ya a solid. Don’t come cryin’ to me when things go south.” He sounded insulted you didn’t listen after he opened up so much.

“You’re the one not listening to  _ me!  _ You’re just— expecting me to believe all of this without letting me process it all! Why would you do that and act like  _ I’m  _ the bad guy?” You questioned. “You know what? FINE! I’ll go and watch him and I’ll do everything you told me to! Give me the lotion!” You would prove him wrong just because he insulted  _ you.  _ He called you stupid! He made you sound stupid!

You weren’t  _ stupid. _

“ _ Fine!  _ Take the fucking lotion! Oh, and while yer at it, make sure Smiles has the common courtesy to get ya off so you’ll stop acting like a rancid bag of  _ BITCH! _ ”

You scoffed and snatched the lotion away from him after he handed it to you. “FINE!” 

“ _ FINE! _ ” He yelled after you, stomping back and grabbing the edge of the door. His nails deeply dug into the wood as he stared you down, and before you could see the look of pure resentment on his expression, a loud slam reverberated through the hallway; the walls shaking, and even a few paintings threatened to fall.

But you were already down the hallway, and you didn’t give a shit. Except you did, and you were thinking out of confusion, anger, and determination.

You would prove him wrong. You had to prove him wrong.

You hoped you could.

Because hope was all you had left.


	50. History Repeats Itself

Your fingers flexed around the bottle of the lotion, the coolness of it offering some relief over the building heat that scorched you alive. It started as a fire in your gut before it grew and burned away any restraint that had remained, and in doing so, the figurative alarms were resounding off collectively. Your mind was dangerous. It was a poison that burned through your restraints. It was a disease that made its rounds as a thousand thoughts swirled desperately in the confined space of it.

Your knuckles paled in comparison to the rest of your complexion, and as your grip increased on the bottle, the more it became indented. There was a fleeting moment where you began to wonder if your pent up emotions would explode just like the lotion if you squeezed hard enough. 

It wasn’t even that you were  _ angry _ — You were disappointed. Disappointment was far more hazardous than anger; a cataclysmic emotion that reigned supreme, and something that ultimately left you feeling hollowed out beyond repair. 

Oh, and the audacity!

Just when you had actually begun to feel content with your day-to-day lifestyle! Your relationship, no less! Out of all the times that Angel Dust could have told you these things that had you running up a damn wall chasing an explanation that was always just out of your reach, he told you  _ now?  _ Why couldn’t he have told you this grand ‘story’ of his when you actually needed it? 

Where had he been then? Getting laid? Getting rich off his quick cash grabs? Snorting crack? Whatever his reasoning was, Angel rarely let you see the cards he was holding, and even rarer, let people in general see any sign of vulnerability. 

You were disappointed at the arachnid for pointing out all of these details when you could have continued on being the ‘happy little idiot’ he claimed you to be. It was a move possibly built on concern, your rational side told you, but a selfish one nonetheless. 

If his story had any semblance of truth, then where did that put you and Alastor? 

Were you being manipulated? Were you actually in a land of fantasy and delight, naive to the idea of wool being pulled over your eyes? Just when you thought you were getting somewhere with Angel, it was so very convenient for him to tell you all this, to finally be the friend you hoped he could be. And it probably would have done some good if he had told you before things had progressed this far. 

He had every opportunity to tell you this earlier, and he fucking didn’t.

But you also felt repulsed at the idea that… he could be right. Alastor has shown you that he could be good to you, but what if that was all a big conspiracy? What if all you were was a form of entertainment to him? Hell, the first time you had met him, Vaggie had told you not to trust him. He was a deal maker;  _ you  _ had made a deal with him, even. Charlie and Vaggie had told you that getting out of a deal with him was practically impossible unless both parties wanted it. 

It was an act of consent on both sides, and you had not been greeted by a flash of green light or some physical bonding breaking apart when you had broken off the deal. A sense of dread then ran through you. It was because you hadn’t… broken it off. You had amended the terms, but it had never been explicitly stated that the deal was voided. 

You had only assumed. 

So… what if he was using the fucked up time difference to do just that? What if after getting what he wanted, he would leave you just like Angel had said? What if he really only was doing his job as a deal maker, and this had been some crazy scheme that you weren’t even aware you had been a part of? 

He was a master manipulator and knew how to get exactly what he wanted, and regarding you— What if he had been finessing you the entire time? 

What if you were just a toy? A  _ pet?  _

Your nose crinkled at the thought, before you lifted your foot and regained your pace to return to your room.  _ Your _ space. All theses seeds of doubt had been planted in your mind, and it seemed that now was the time it would come to harvest. When things felt too good to be true, chances are, they were. 

You swallowed the thickness in your throat harshly, a chill running up your back as you navigated subconsciously towards your room. What would you do when you got there? Who knew. Maybe you would just sit and stare at the ceiling for the rest of eternity, because you doubted any of this would be satisfied by anything else.

It wasn’t like you could go outside and take a walk anymore, either. With the move that he just pulled and until you learned to better defend yourself, you were practically on lockdown. Chained to the hotel, to the memories that resided within its walls, to the residents that lived there. 

There was no escape. 

You opened your bedroom door, uncaring that you left it ajar before walking in an almost daze-like fashion to your bed. There, you lifted yourself onto it, the mattress dipping under your weight as the springs groaned out. The bottle of lotion was still in your hand for the sole purpose of giving you some sort of physical weight and reminder that the conversation had really happened and you weren’t losing your mind in paranoia. 

But alas, it did not do much to support your point once you stuffed your face into your pillows and let out a scream, muffled by the fluff and muted by the sheer volume of them. All the stress that had been piling onto you was suffocating, and you were relieved to find some sort of release. 

The darkness and silence was equally welcoming as you ran out of breath. You honed in on the sounds of the vicinity as a whole— the settling of the hotel, the wind whistling outside, and for the moment, your thoughts had gone quiet, as if your mind had realized that one more stupid thought would make you go manic. But such peace was short lived.

There was a soft knock at the cracked door, and you pulled your face off of the pillow, stared at the bottle that was still in your hand, and promptly chucked it at the door in hopes to deter whoever the hell it was. All you wanted to do was wallow in your nerves in peace and quiet. Your eyes were trained in a glare, misty and blurred from the pressure you had on them previously until you managed to blink it away. 

The moment that followed occurred in a way that made you think you were watching it in slow-motion. Your eyes widened a fraction at the sight of a familiar blonde-haired demon entering the room completely, just as the bottle of lotion hurdled towards her. 

You saw the  _ precise  _ moment that her instincts kicked in, as she hurriedly shielded herself, and in doing so, somehow caught the object in question just before it hit its unintentional target. A sense of guilt flooded through you as you sat up completely. 

“Sorry, Charlie. I thought...“ you sniffled, swiping around the corner of your eyes before continuing softly, “... you were someone else.” 

She was inspecting the bottle with curiosity after coming to the realization that it wasn’t out to attack her. Charlie blinked, turning it around after figuring out what it was before sneaking a glance at you. “This isn’t what has you upset, is it?” She questioned aloud with a sheepish smile, paired with a tone laced with concern. 

Slowly, she placed it on the bedside table. “I have some floral scented lotion if you’d prefer it!” A chirp, which was something you assumed was her attempt of lightening the drab mood. 

You loved Charlie, you did, but you couldn’t bear the thought of such a chipper attitude nipping away your more depressed one. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball and never wake again. The moment you saw her beam at you hopefully though, you groaned and fell back onto the bed, bringing your hands up to run down your face. 

She had to have some sort of secret empathetic power in her, because you weren’t sure how else she could sense something was wrong every single time— she always  _ knew.  _

There was no point in hiding it. “No.” You murmured, muffled by your palms as you rubbed your temples. All of this thinking was bound to give you a splitting migraine. It was only a matter of time. There was a quick audible inhale, before a deep sigh was released. The ‘ _ click’  _ of the door being shut caused you to remove your hands from your face.

“Well, it doesn’t do any good to let things fester, you know.” She tried to comfort you with her words, her voice softer. “... Would you like to talk about it?” You watched as she grabbed her opposite elbow in her hand, her head cocking to the side in a silent question.  _ Did  _ you want to talk about it? 

No, not really. 

But if you got your way, you probably wouldn’t talk about anything ever. You weren’t entirely good with your words; and you mostly showed your emotions through actions. That wasn’t to say that you were quiet, because you weren’t, it was just… you didn’t want to burden them.

Your thoughts could be so awful. 

You didn’t want to burden Charlie. She already had enough on her plate to deal with what you were going through all of the sudden, right? You slowly lifted yourself up to sit against the headboard and hug your knees. “Dunno what to say.” You huffed, resting your head into your arms. You had all sorts of things to confess and stress about, but you were  _ afraid.  _

Charlie smiled kindly at you. “Do you mind if I come sit?” She didn’t want to invite herself into your room, but she wanted you to know she was here for you. 

You shrugged, but motioned towards the free spot on the bed. “Be my guest.” Another sigh.

She strode over and settled herself at the foot of your bed. “What’s going on? It looks like you’ve got a thousand and one thoughts stomping about in there.” She pointed up at your head. 

Sometimes for you, it was easier to blurt the first thing on your mind. “What if Alastor didn’t change?” You looked up then, your expression suddenly visibly distressed. 

Charlie rose her brows briefly in surprise before keeping her jaw locked. “What do you mean? Did something happen?” If he was back on his old bullshit, she knew of at least  _ one _ person that would happily stab him for you.

You looked off to the side then, suddenly restless in your movements as you repositioned yourself and curled into a pillow. You rested your cheek against it. For a long time, you remained quiet, in an internal war with yourself over what could and could not be. What was possible and what wasn’t. Charlie seemed understanding, having an incredible amount of patience. It was admirable, if not a bit shocking. 

“Angel spoke to me.” You said at last, taking in a shaky inhale. “He told me about this person named Anthony who was a Porn Star and got in too deep with his boss. The boss was manipulative and… and…” You trailed off. 

“And he did a lot of things that Alastor did.”

“And now you’re having a lot of doubts?” Her question was soft. She hoped Angel didn’t ruin things between you and Alastor… You both seemed so happy together.

“I can’t think straight.” You muttered. “I just… I can’t.  _ Think _ .” Everything was going too fast in your mind, so you started by rambling every single thought that came to pass. “Why would he tell me this now? Why didn’t he tell me when I needed to hear it?  _ Is _ Alastor manipulating me, Charlie?” You didn’t look at her as you inquired about it, and you didn’t give her time to react or respond as you were continuing barely a moment later.

“What if this is all a game to him and he doesn’t actually… care? Why  _ now?  _ Why would Angel tell me that he saw a lot of relationships fail between couples like Alastor and I? Is this even a relationship? What and who do I believe if I can’t even trust  _ him?  _ Was that the point to the story? For me not to trust him? I want to trust him, I do, I really— I…” Your voice cracked as emotion began to form in your eyes, your face warming. “What if,” You sniffled. “What if it’s not real? What if this is just… my personal hell?” You held the pillow closer to you, clutching it as if it were your lifeline. 

“What if he  _ hasn’t changed?” _

There really  _ were _ a thousand and one things stomping around up there. Damn. Charlie blinked in surprise before sympathy colored her features. “Are you only having these doubts after you talked with Angel? Did you feel like this before, that everything was a lie?” She hoped you would listen to yourself more than you would others, but everything was always so much more difficult than that. Especially down in Hell. Nothing ever seemed to be so cut and dry. 

Hell was different for everyone, that was the only thing that was always the same.

No one knew how to trust themselves… and barely knew where to even begin on trusting someone else.

“I-” You blinked the tears away, but still brought a fist up to rub at your eyes. Your face felt so hot, flushed with emotion that seemed to be never ending. “I don’t know.” Because all you were feeling were these doubts right now and you couldn’t bother to really  _ think  _ about the before _ .  _ You stared at the corner of your room blankly, a frown twisting upon your lips. “... I don’t know.” You said, again; this time, though, it was a whisper.

“I want to believe Angel is wrong but… everything he said was something that Alastor did!” You began to voice your worries again. “Y’know like, what if I really  _ am _ just a form of entertainment to him? If Angel is right, then that means that he’s not up to good! That means— that means that this was all planned.  _ I  _ was planned.” You let out a disbelieving, humorless, emotion-riddled laugh. “He knew he would get me, didn’t he Charlie?” You were beginning to believe your own words, and the words that Angel had planted in your head. 

“How cruel.” You muttered.

“Is all this because Al got drunk last night? The announcement?” She was still trying to piece together everything from what you were saying, but it wasn’t all making sense. You could not have been this impressionable for one story to cut all faith in you. Perhaps you really  _ were _ having doubts about your relationship as a whole… She was worried about you, as she worried about all of her tenants. 

You sat up then, “After the announcement, I talked to him about it and he got angry with  _ me!  _ He showed me his demon face, and it reminded me of that time in the closet when he licked my hand and he… he was really scary then, and he was scary in that moment too.” 

You inhaled deeply. “What if drunk Al is the real Al?”

She cut you off then. “Is the drunk you, the real you?” She asked curiously. It was a real question. Not everyone was themselves when they were drunk, but you needed a different opinion right now. 

You were silenced successfully, and you visibly faltered.

“What happened after he showed you his demon face? Did it get worse or better?” She needed the whole story so she could actually get a clear picture. 

You twiddled your thumbs. “No, I got scared and he stopped and apologized.” A pause. “He told me that he wouldn’t be offended if I ever needed to run away from him, but I  _ know _ that’s a lie because he’s Alastor and he looked really offended and unhappy in that moment, and then I felt bad because I remembered he was drunk and then I remembered I was arguing with a drunk and I don’t even remember—”

“What is it like when you argue with him sober?” Charlie questioned.

You looked up, briefly. “... The only time I argued with him sober was when I went up to his room the night after doing those posters with you, him, Vaggie, and uh, his shadow. I couldn’t piece my words together, I guess, and I got annoyed with myself. And then he got annoyed with me not being able to talk and tried to go to bed.” Thinking was dangerous for you. “He likes to brush me off, I think.”

She nodded along with your words. She really was listening, but she still felt like she was missing half of the story. Because Alastor wasn’t here to give his two cents. She was sure he would have plenty to say if he had known how upset you were. 

“So you’ve never brushed him off before?” 

Naturally, you got defensive. “Yeah, when I was trying to get him to leave me alone. But we all know how that worked out.” 

“We do all know.” She half-smiled, trying to appease you. “But, don’t you think that forgetting all the things he has tried to do to change is a little… unfair?” She couldn’t believe her own words. The Radio Demon was an asshole, everyone knew that, but she had seen how hard he had tried. How much sleep he had lost trying to figure you out and the effort he had put in in trying to make himself better… for you. 

“But that’s the thing! How do I know he’s actually  _ changing?  _ What if Angel is right and this is just… this is just…” You sounded idiotic. You knew it. Charlie knew it, even if she would never admit it. You had a habit of rambling when stressed, and oftentimes, things  _ didn’t  _ make sense.

“Do you mind if I tell you a story?” Her voice was soft and laced with nostalgia.

Your expression deadpanned. Not  _ another _ story. “... What’s it about?” You said warily. 

“It’s about how my parents got together.” She said plainly, shrugging her shoulders. 

You blinked, before you released a heavy sigh and leaned back into the bed once more. “Yeah, sure. I guess.” Such thoughts exhausted you. 

Charlie sat up a little straighter and turned to face you properly. “You’ve met my parents.” She rolled her wrist then. “They’re a little eccentric, and they’re really different from each other. I mean, you know their history right? How Dad’s a fallen angel and Mom was Adam’s first wife?” 

“... Adam like, Adam and Eve? Genesis?” You scrunched your face up. You stared at the ceiling, scouring the indentations of the plaster.

“Yeah! That’s the one! The Bible isn't a big discussion at home, you know, for uh, obvious reasons.” Charlie chuckled awkwardly about her own little joke. 

You offered her a weak smile. Despite the story being one that inevitable would fall back into the subject of you and Alastor-- in ways you weren’t sure of yet, you found yourself thankful for the temporary distraction. 

“Anyways,” she said awkwardly, “Mom has always been this really strong, incredible woman, and just because she wouldn’t lay down for her husband… She was turned into the first demon. She’s an amazing woman and Dad kind of fell for her instantly,” Charlie looked out your window wistfully. Her parents' story was known to few, but it was one of her favorites. 

She was a sucker for romance.

“Dad had a really hard time. He had never really loved anyone before. You met him, you know how strange he can be and the funny ways he just, you know,  _ is _ .”

You couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape you at the thought of Charlie’s father. Honestly, the Devil was more so a prankster than the villain often depicted in books. But still, you remained quiet as you settled yourself comfortably into the fort of pillows behind you.

“He had some really questionable ways of trying to win her over… to get her to see his softer side because at that point, he still wasn’t really sure he even had one.” She seemed lost in thought. “The entirety of his life had been spent as a soldier for a father who didn’t know how to give him affection. Seeing Mom being turned into a demon really got to him, and then she was cast down into Hell.”

“At first Dad just tried to get to know her, she was really stubborn and held a lot of anger for what God had done to her.” Charlie smiled wistfully then. “But she wouldn’t break.” She paused for a second to give you time to process the story. “Dad never understood subtlety and tried lots of ways to get her to laugh. That’s actually how the whole snake and the apple thing happened. He wanted to make mom laugh by playing a joke on her ex-husband's new wife, but he ended up tempting and cursing all women and humanity.”

“It made her absolutely furious. Though the apple kind of became an infamous story for my dad, as it was his first real attempt at wooing her, so now they are both pretty fond of it. It’s like a little running joke between them.” She laughed softly. You started to feel touched by how Charlie was opening up about her parent’s relationship, it was clearly a precious story to her.

“When it didn’t make her laugh then though, he kept trying more and more, but eventually she ended up telling him off. She would fight with him, endlessly, these big epic battles, where parts of hell were completely destroyed. Souls who got into the crossfire of those fights were often never seen again.” She explained quickly, clearly put off by the idea of anyone getting into harm's way, lining up with her empathetic nature you had come to know her for.

“It was only when Dad actually started to take his role as Lucifer seriously, when he started turning Hell into something  _ more _ than just a wasteland of desolate souls, did she start soften up to him..” Her eyes brightened. “He started focusing his energy on making it into a place that wasn’t as terrifying. He and the demons under his command started to build cities, trading skills and services for goods and other things. You know. He tried to build a society down here!” She smiled at that, because it sounded like what she was trying to do. 

She was more like her father than he would ever admit.

“He focused on where he lived instead of trying to get attention from the father that abandoned him. She uh, really fell for his determination and his hard work. And you know when Dad started working on Hell, life got better down here. It wasn’t such a scary place anymore! I mean, it was still Hell and super dangerous, but it was getting better.”

“She started coming to him more, and he finally got the message that she didn’t want someone who was only interested in making life hard for others, or making chaos just for… entertainment.” She eyed you then. “Mom was interested in the Lucifer that worked to make Hell better, and in doing so, made himself a little better. He softened up, not for everybody, but just for her. He started calming down, started building a home for her and him. And then you know, they got married and stuff. Had me.” She smiled fondly as she looked up at the pentagram through the window.

“Dad has always been really sweet on Mom. I mean he’s a completely different person with her. Me too, but not quite like how he is with her… It took him a long time to figure out how to be good to her, and it took her a long time to trust him after all the weird stuff he did to get her attention, but now, they figured out what works for them. And they don’t listen to what others say.” She finally turned her attention back to you, with a thoughtful smile. 

“You and Alastor remind me of them… your struggles and your efforts. Well, Al’s efforts.” She rolled her eyes, the beating heart incident coming to mind. “People who haven’t got a lot of affection and love in their lives often don’t know how to show it. There’s a big learning curve they aren’t even aware of! And if I were in your situation…” She paused and settled a hand on your foot, squeezing it with a reassuring smile. As a bigger sister would have.

“I would talk to him, let him know what you’re feeling.” She ended.

You were an impressionable person; you were incredibly naive and unaware of how the real world worked and how many struggles there really were. Ever since saying yes to him, everything had been smooth— but now that Angel had warned you and then with Charlie coming to save the day with her impeccable timing things were complicated. Both of them came to you with dramatically different stories that each held some truth within their depths of the relationship you were in. 

You just needed to find out what was true, and what wasn’t. And the only way to do that, the only way that you could possibly get to the bottom of this was to either prove Angel wrong... or completely shatter your heart. You needed to hold onto the hope that it would be alright in the end. And to do that, you needed to talk to him, just like Charlie had said. 

Sitting up further, you then launched yourself at her, only to wrap your arms around her neck in a hug. The Princess of Hell was taller than you, but it was a lot easier than doing something similar with Alastor. Charlie was only about head above you.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Charlie.” You held onto her like she was your raft in a deep, dark sea. She had fished you out of those depths more times now than you could count.

“I love you, silly!” She chuckled, wrapping her arms happily back around you. “You’re my friend! And I know you would do the same.” She squeezed you and pet your hair. “You’ve got more strength than you know and I believe in you. You can do this.” She squeezed you once more. 

You squeezed her back, swaying for a moment. “I love you too.” You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry until you felt a tear travel down your cheek. And then, you unraveled your arms from her and rubbed away your emotion with your fist. “I’ll… let you know how it goes, if you’d like.” If Charlie was the good bean, you were the awkward bean. 

“Please do. I want to make sure everything goes well.” She held your shoulders firmly. “You can do this.” She was always so reassuring.

“I can do this.” You repeated with a firm nod.

And then you faltered and caught a glance at the computer behind her. “I um,” You rubbed the back of your neck. Maybe you could kill two birds with one stone and prove to Angel that Alastor… really wasn’t as bad as he seemed, while also solidifying your own trust in him. “Gotta do something before that, though.” You slid off the side of the bed and stretched out. You looked to Charlie, then.

“Oh yeah, what's that?” She flopped down onto your bed and started kicking her feet.

You stiffened. “... Prove Angel wrong?” Your voice lilted.

She nodded with a light hum. “You do what you need to do,” She stated your name and eyed you. “Remember, you got this.” She repeated, pointing to you. Then she was up on her feet. 

“... I got this.” You murmured.

She nodded and left, shutting your door on her way out. 

You stared at the door for a long moment, before taking a deep breath and releasing it with an even greater exhale, albeit shakily. Turning around, you walked over to the desktop, sat down while shaking the mouse, pulled the internet up and typed in: 

** _Alastor, The Radio Demon_ **


	51. Some Fake News Bullshit, Man

A small sigh of anxiety fell from your lips, your stomach threatening to somersault straight out of your body if you could not get a better grip on your emotions. Such a thing was difficult to obtain in a situation such as this— and if it had been easier, you probably wouldn’t be doing this to begin with. 

You were nervous. 

Your fingers felt clammy as they stuttered over the mouse. It had become a waiting game; and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about how long it was taking. Did that mean there was a lot? Or was that just another show of how utterly horrid the internet connection was down here? Don’t get it wrong, you knew that Alastor was a well known name around these parts; but you weren’t entirely sure in what manner. 

In your time down in Hell, you didn’t do much to get into the ‘politics’— not that such a thing really interested you anyways. You supposed you should have had a bit more interest in it though, considering the individuals you hung around with on the daily and how often you used them as an excuse to fuel your own fears. 

Cold sweat began to form on the base of your neck as you watched the small, nearly indecipherable circle spin as it searched for the content you had requested. Your other hand, which had now begun to rest on the desk, had begun to thrum against the wooden surface; your knee had begun to bounce just out of sight as you waited anxiously for the results you weren’t… entirely sure you wanted. 

The longer you waited, the more the rational side outweighed your impulsive one. Were you making the right decision? What were you even expecting to find? A means to an end? Proof that you doubted you would even find? A way to prove that Alastor and that ‘Val’ person were different? That Alastor wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be? That ‘The Radio Demon’ was just an unoriginal name and nothing more? You had to hold onto the hope that he wasn’t hiding anything major from you. 

You had to hold onto the hope that… this was real and you weren’t just part of some big manipulative grand scheme. With a shaky exhale, you situated yourself into your seat further; your shoulders slumping as the first of _ thousands _of results began to flood the page. 

You steeled yourself; but such an action could only go so far when it felt like your heart was in your throat.

You hadn’t even realized you squeezed your eyes shut until you reopened them. You were instantaneously greeted with images of Alastor in countless variations and events. Some were crudely taken; a shaky phone or camera the source. Some were clear; hell, there were even a few videos. 

Your eyes roamed, scrolling further down the page and eventually landing upon a ‘News’ tab. Hesitantly, you clicked it. The loading time seemed a whole lot longer than it took for you to originally bring up the images, and the reason became apparent when you saw just how many pages there were on news stories about him. You were on page 1 of 666. _ Ironic. _

The first story that greeted you was a headline that stated:

**Hellish York Times: Latest Hostile Takeovers**

Shakily, slowly, you brought your mouse over, clicked on it and read the following:

_Last week was a large shock for folks who were trying to get home after the extermination, only to find themselves walking into something even worse! Our very own Radio Demon struck a claim on a south-eastern territory of a bog (don’t ask us! We don’t know why anyone would want to claim a swamp!), a place that had been freed up and, upon doing so, claimed the souls that resided within it as his own. Some witnesses claim that …_

You stopped reading for a minute, leaning forward and looking through the dozens of pictures of the area of interest, only to pause at a particular one. There _ he _ was in all of his glory, holding out his microphone which doused the area in a bright golden glow. The victim, some sort of amphibian demon, had its arms out in an attempt to block the attack. Or so you supposed. Oh. There was a video. Something inside you told you not to watch it. 

You clicked it anyway.

Whatever warning that you could’ve been met with were for naught, as the video started just after the image was captured. The demon was flung backwards into a tree; said force causing a few branches to fall into the shallow water. You winced as you watched it, the ‘cameraman’ zooming in on Alastor’s face which was… that same face that you saw the night prior.

His body was morphed into something of even greater horrors; for you could see the vertebrae of his spine, even through his coat. He looked more like a giant warped skeletal creature than… Alastor. He didn’t look anything like Alastor. He was far more terrifying. You swallowed thickly, but forced yourself to keep watching. 

The cameraman was shaking, as seen from the inability to remain still. They were scared, whoever it was. Rightfully so, because even _ you _were beginning to feel scared. You wondered briefly as to why they were unable to leave, but you soon noticed that, by a mistake or on purpose, there was some sort of bubble around them. Just like he had done with you that one time, but in extremely different circumstances. That cameraman couldn’t leave if he had tried. 

Was… Alastor forcing him to record it? 

The focus was soon set on the victim again, who was begging for mercy or… something. It was difficult to figure out what they were saying; but they looked terrified. Alastor, apparently, did not do well with threats— especially ones when territories were involved. 

He walked closer, the sound of swamp water splashing beneath his shoes causing a sense of fear to crawl up your spine. He was stalking the victim, _ hunting him. _That grin only seemed to grow in intensity once he raised the microphone up and, in a grand finale, you watched as the victim was there one minute, and in the next moment, he was gone. 

The camera refocused on Alastor, albeit a lot more shakily, and if you had put the volume up more, you would have heard the cameraman pleading under his breath. Inhumanly, Alastor’s head snapped towards the camera in an one hundred and eighty degree angle. That wicked, vile grin was enough nightmare fuel to last you until the end of time. In some unseen motion, something caused static to erupt across the screen before it turned off. 

The video ended.

You, too, were shaking. Your eyes wide as nausea crept up your throat, only to resettle low in your chest after a few minutes. There were a plethora of questions and emotions running around in your mind. Where did that demon go? And their friend? Co-worker? You brought your hand to rest on the mouse again, rewinding the video to a certain point and watched it again. 

In the split second that you had blinked, you missed a _ lot. _

There was a faint outline of _ something _ being pulled across the screen. You couldn’t quite make it out the first time because it hadn’t been opaque enough to be properly picked up by film. You paused the video to get a better look at what was happening. 

When you paused it, you saw that it wasn't just a smudge on the screen.

That seemingly shapeless sheer mass had been the demon’s soul being ripped out of their body. The face screamed hollowly, silently, reaching out to its physical form as it tried to return to where it belonged. But to no avail.

You felt incredibly sick then. 

You printed the screen out, so you would remember this and how horrifying it truly was to witness someone’s soul get pulled out of them. When you pressed play, you saw how quick it happened, too. The soul disappeared into the microphone in a flash of yellow light, never to be seen or heard from again.

He had claimed that soul as his own. 

You really were going to be sick. You leaned back into your chair, the creaking causing you to jolt back into reality. You slumped a bit, watching as the printer began to print out the item of your choosing. The still image was a lot more haunting than what you would have liked. How many more or there were like this? How many more souls had he trapped within his microphone? Was this what Lucifer had done, too? 

Your face felt warm as sympathy and guilt for the individual rushed forward, and as much as you wanted to get more answers, as much as you wanted to prove Angel wrong and tell him that Alastor really wasn’t as bad as what you were seeing with your own two eyes… you couldn’t. And you couldn’t tear yourself away from the web page either, even as you took a deep breath and clicked ‘back’. 

With a belated breath, you scrolled down to the next news story.

**The Herald, Wonderland Edition: The Radio Demon Has Struck Again!**

Bracing yourself for the worst, you clicked on it and were greeted with a shorter, but more gruesome story. Which, originally, you didn’t think or want to believe was possible:

_The Radio Demon has struck again! Late last night many demons were found flayed. When asked for the reasoning behind such gruesome acts, the demon responded: _

_“I needed some new rugs for my home! The blood stains on the last ones just won’t come out.” This serial killer turned demon has people completely avoiding the edge of the third circle due to his personal antics._

You made a face as you printed that out as well. You couldn’t really bring yourself to do anything else. Your mind was both racing with a million questions while also being so utterly quiet and aware of everything around you. You felt like you were being watched. You looked over your shoulder. Nothing. You were just being paranoid. With a heavy sigh, you ran your hands down your face, and clicked back again. 

Your hope was diminishing.

**The Halo Burner: Putting The ‘Ow’ In Sow.**

Your mind immediately drifted to Fat Nuggets, but you braced yourself and read:

_The Radio Demon’s latest broadcast really put the ‘ow’ in ‘sow’ after turning an entire fleet of demons into pigs! This is reportedly due to the fact that the demon in question was running low on his personal stock of bacon and pork products._

He turned… a _ fleet _of demons into pigs and slaughtered them. Which took your mind to when he had told you he didn’t eat people’s pets. Just people he turned into farm animals. 

For fuck’s sake.

… Onto the next. 

**Hell Today: A Very Difficult Week For The Denizens of Hell**

_There has been a recent uprising from a new mortal soul that has set every demon in the pentagram on their heckles. Twice daily a broadcast has taken over all radio signals, turning it into a scream laced, jazz filled, horror show! Some demons have taken a liking to this new form of entertainment while others are running scared. Several ancient overlords have been knocked off the top of their metaphorical towers._

_Reports are that those overlords were cooked and blanched into various dishes to be consumed by this new soul. Almost all witnesses to these accounts have been quickly snuffed by the same demon._

You nearly gagged when you thought of what ingredients he must have used for making you all of those meals before. Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? What the fuck. Why couldn’t he just go to a grocery store? Did you accidentally eat a person? You shakily moved your mouse over to ‘print’ and just… printed the entire page. Angel was right. 

Alastor was incredibly dangerous and you were probably not of any grand importance to him. You were probably just some sort of scheme. Part of a plan you weren’t even aware you were part of. You stared at the papers as they laid upon each other. Your heart suddenly felt very heavy, and _ you _ felt incredibly weak. 

You wanted to curl up into your bed and never move again, but in that grand moment, the realization of the fact that you had spoken to Charlie and she had offered you legitimate advice… You probably should confront him about it. In what felt like an infinite amount of time, you stared at those papers that were now in your hand, and thought about the things that you could do and possibly even _ say. _

You watched as a tear fell onto the paper and stained through it, before you scrunched your face up and rubbed them aggressively away. You weren’t sure what you were doing, but apparently you were standing. And now you were walking out the door, and down the hallway. Honestly, you were more in a daze as your mind struggled to keep up with everything that was happening and all the things that had been told to you. 

Instead of the warmth you normally felt when you saw him, the moment you stepped foot into the lobby and caught sight of… the sheep demon, the ‘wooly one’, and Alastor, you felt _ fear. _

The sight and your feelings had you pause. Maybe this was nothing, but with everything you had just seen and read, your hope was a thin wire, and you were precariously balancing on it. You tucked yourself close to the wall so you could watch what he was doing; the coolness of it offering an oasis to your already heated skin. 

“And how do you find our lovely little hotel to your liking?” Alastor twirled his fingers, smiling at the demon in his usual eerie and charming way. His other hand was tapping against his leg casually, air calm and collected. 

You watched as the sheep peered up at him. “Oh, everyone has been very nice. Charlie put me in a really pretty room and stuff. There’s a lot of pink!” She nervously clopped her hooves together. You knew that look. She was trying to swallow her fear.

And now, you didn’t exactly blame her.

“Excellent, and now you are under my management? Correct? You are one of our new custodians! My wooly girl, you have quite the shoes to fill!” He pat her on her head, leaning down to look her in the eye. “I won’t have any slacking, you know. This place is rather large and haunting… _ Daunting _, I meant to say daunting, oh silly me, always mixing the two up.” He let out that loud biting laughter he had. 

The little lamb bleated and immediately covered her mouth with a hoof. “Sorry, it happens when I get…” She stopped and gulped as she looked up at him.

“Scared?” Alastor offered, straightening out to his full height. “If I wanted to hurt you, believe me, I would have done so already.” You saw his form glitch briefly. You narrowed your eyes, leaning forward slightly, but still remaining blocked from view.

“Ri-right.” The word tumbled out of her mouth and she took a cautious step backwards.

“Anyway, so you _ will _ do the hotel proud won’t you? Give it all you’ve got. We do want our sweet Charlie to succeed, don’t we?” His eyes narrowed down at her. 

She met his gaze, albeit shyly and with a reserved look about her. “... What are you trying to do?” The accusation and unsaid words were heavy in the air between them. 

“Why, I’m only making sure we both get something we want! What is it you want? You know, I have quite the array of connections down here and I may be able to drum up something.” He phased behind her, his hands on her shoulder as he leaned down to talk in her ear. “I can make it so that you are a successful demon!” He splayed his hands out in an arch-like movement. 

“Or is it fame?” He looked back down to her. Suddenly before them both were images of Ivy with wealth, and in a flash, it had shifted to seeing Ivy perform in front of a crowd of thousands. The screens were illusions of what could be. 

Alastor hummed lightly, tapping his chin. “Or is it security you’re after?” A side glance. “I don’t offer my protection for everyone, you know, but perhaps I could make an exception.” He pinched her cheek and she flinched away from the touch, her eyes settled on herself in a nice little house. 

“You could do that?” She asked quietly.

“Of course, Ivy. I have friends in all the right places, though someone like me doesn’t really need friends. What I’m after are _ favors. _” The image vanished in a puff of smoke as he took their place, standing in front of her once more. 

“What kind of favors?” Her voice had lost any strength, but there was an intrigue in her eyes. 

“Well, you work for me, I work for you, an exchange of services if you will. When I need you, you answer, and what have you.” He waved his hand around gesturing to all the supposed things he was going to do. Or rather what _ she _ would have to do. “So are you interested?” His eyes landed back on her, patient and ready to strike.

“You could keep me safe?” A softer question.

His grin widened and his eyes darkened with satisfaction. With a single nod, he held out his hand. “So it’s a deal then?”

“_ NO!” _You shot out from behind the wall then, before you could really stop yourself. You raced down the stairs, and even jumped down a few before running towards them. The papers were crumpled in your right hand and you stopped right before them. “No, no, no, don’t do that, Ivy— It’s Ivy, right?” 

Alastor let out a sigh and backed away from the little lamb.

Ivy was staring at you in shock that you had just dared to interrupt Alastor at all. She kept glancing nervously from you to him- expecting some sort of fire, or bomb, or some type of hellish devastation to befall you. “Yeah. It’s Ivy, uh, don’t do what?” Her hooves were now infront of her and she was circling the edges around each other in a nervous tick. 

“Make a deal with him. Don’t-” Your were out of breath for some reason, and you rested your hand on her shoulder as you tried to lead her away. “Bad idea.” You murmured. You didn’t even spare a glance at Alastor. 

“I’m sure if you want something, you can get it in a way that isn’t so…” You hesitated. “Evil.” 

Alastor bounced in shock as his gaze fell on you. _ Evil? _

Ivy let out a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah I think you’re probably right.” Her foot scuffed at the floor. She looked up at Alastor. You didn’t follow her gaze. “Thanks for the offer though. I’m going to get back to work now.” She turned and started humming to herself some sweet melody. 

You watched Ivy as she went along with her day, and continued to do so even when she was out of sight. 

Alastor bound on you immediately. “Darling! I was doing business! Why did you stop me?” His head quirked to the side as his tone belated confusion and his expression, surprise. 

You closed your eyes with a deep inhale as you listened to him talk to you, inquiring about your reasons for doing such a thing. But all you could really hear were words you weren’t you could trust. You clenched your fists, before relaxing them. And then, with a frown, you turned towards him and handed him the papers.

“This is why.” Your voice cracked as he took the papers out of your grip, immediately thumbing through them. Just as you turned away, you managed to catch sight of his eyes narrowing. With a defeated sigh, you began to make your way back to your room. At least Ivy was safe now.

“You’ve been very busy, haven’t you sharkling?” He muttered, thumbing through the papers. “This is all quite sudden, what’s got you looking into my past?” He followed a few paces behind you, his footsteps tapping softly on the hardwood.

“Yeah, well, I guess you’ve been busy, too.” You snapped, a bit more aggressively than you were usually. You were rarely someone who yelled or… anything like that, but you were in a whirlwind of emotion. You ignored his question as you went up the stairs and continued to make your way to your room. 

You rubbed your eyes again, your frown causing you to jut your lip out, even as it wobbled. You were glad you were looking away from him, because if you looked at him, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to steel yourself.

The sound of your voice turning harsh had him stop briefly behind you. He was exceedingly confused. Something, and he wasn’t sure what, had happened since the morning when you both left each other to begin the day. This wasn’t like you. “I feel as if I am missing some rather important context. Did something happen today?” 

He paused in his speech as he looked down at the papers in his hand. He quickened his pace and trailed after you. 

“Other than your intriguing side project, I mean? Who upset you?”

You arrived at your door quicker than you normally would have, precisely because you had the desire to be in your space, just as Angel had. You stopped in front of it and looked down to your shoes, your hand lifting to rest on the knob. You tried to steady your breathing, even as it quickened as you tried to battle down the desire to sob your damn heart out. “I did. I- I upset myself.” You murmured and opened the door, only to try to close it behind you. 

But to no avail, as he stuffed his arm through the crack in the door before you could shut him out. You let the knob go and made your way to your bed, only to crawl on top of it and collapse into the heap of pillows and blankets. You curled into one of the pillows, but turned to face him. 

“I assume we are going to discuss this as we normally do? Correct?” He inquired. “Darling, what happened? If this is about what happened when I was inebriated, I will apologize again, I did not mean to frighten you.”

You could feel yourself breaking. You were wrong. This was wrong. You weren’t someone to tattle-tale and point fingers, and the one who had messed up clearly had been you. You were too naive to really see the danger and maliciousness there always was. But Charlie… Charlie had said it was something her father did with her mother before, too. 

You wrapped your arm around your pillow and pulled it into your stomach, curling your leg around it, too. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying until you noticed how blurry he was when you opened your eyes. You didn’t bother to wipe them away this time, either. You let them stain the pillow. “A-Angel told me…” You choked out.

“He told me all the things that he’s witnessed with guys like you, and how you can’t really feel anything, and how it’s all just some big stupid hoax and I-” You couldn’t really piece your words together properly. 

It probably didn’t make much sense, but in your mind, it did. 

He quietly shut the door behind him, the soft ‘click’ signifying such as he came to kneel by your side. His eyes were wide; watching over you with worry as he saw how your’s were filled with tears. “Do you think I feel nothing?” He asked you softly, reaching out a hand to wipe away the tears streaking across your sweet face. 

You flinched away. 

Alastor paused and drew his hand away from you. “Do you think that?” He couldn’t hide the hurt coloring his voice if he had tried. 

Did you? You sniffled, tears now streaming down your face as you hugged the pillow tighter. “I… don’t know.” 

Because how can a person like him feel something when he took countless lives? “I don’t know. I don’t know. What- what to feel, I don’t know what to believe.” Your face scrunched up slightly. “Am I a game? Am I part of this big scheme of yours? Congratulations Al, because if I am, you’ve fooled me. Shame on me.” You tried to turn around.

He returned to standing and he backed away from you. “All I’ve ever wanted from you,” he paused, “was your affection and your company. I… I took so long to figure it out, I… You aren’t some game, or some pawn in some dastardly plan. My only plan for you was to love you.” He finished quietly. He placed his hand over his chest and felt how his heart stuttered in his chest. Sadness. 

This was what this felt like. 

“Do you remember how you made my heart flutter, little sharkling? Why would I fake that, how could I? I don’t understand.” The last part was a mumble. His eyes fell to the floor, unable to look at you any longer. His gaze was darting away, flitting from place to place as if he was trying to piece together some mysterious puzzle. 

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces then, and you suddenly felt sick with him just as much as you were sick with yourself. Because all of these worries were something you had let fester and grow in your mind.

You were sick with Angel and how he put these thoughts in your mind and how much they made sense and how much you couldn’t believe all of this was happening so… quick. What was even happening? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. His words made sense, he made sense. Angel made sense. Charlie made sense. And here you were, unsure of who to believe. 

But the thing that caused you to sit up and hug your knees as you sat with your back to the headboard, was the fact that he told you that he _ loved you. _And nothing killed you more in that moment than that. He could tell you these things, but what if they were a lie, too? What if he was just a big, fat, liar? 

“I…” you whispered. “You…?” But what if he was telling the truth? What if _ Angel _was the one lying to you? Or at least he may have been mistaken! But what if you were lying to yourself? Unable to see the truth that was staring at you face-to-face. How could he fake it? You couldn’t. It was impossible. Or so you thought, but you also knew that a lot of things that were impossible could occur down here, too. “... You love me?” You sounded broken, lost. 

You didn’t know what to believe, even though you desperately knew what you wanted.

“Darling… Of course I love you.” He said softly, taking a few steps back to you. He shook his head softly, a softer smile replacing his wide one. 

“I have done everything in my power to make you feel loved, to learn how to love you as you deserve it… And I fear I may never stop learning.” He took another step.

“But I need you to believe and know simultaneously, that I love you and I’m not trying to use you or ensnare you in some trap. I would like to be by your side, as an equal, a partner in crime, a darling to be mine, to share my time with, and to be with you for as long as you deem me proper company.” He didn’t try to reach out to you again, though, as he wasn’t quite ready to feel that hurt again.

Your lip twitched slightly at that as you watched him with a growing intensity. He was hurt. That, or he was a damn good actor. No, he wouldn’t act around you; you had seen that time and time again through your own experiences with him. You were feeling a plethora of different emotions: Affection, relief, confusion, disbelief, horror at the fact that this man… could love, even after taking countless lives. A murderer. Someone criminal. Evil. 

But apparently even someone like that, could love. And he apparently loved _ you _ . Perhaps it would all be okay, and you could get through this and you could figure it out in your own time, along with his help. That was what trust _ was, _right? 

However, you needed to do one thing at a time. And if he was going to help you trust him, then you needed to make sure of certain things. That… video was enough to spook you for a _ long _ while. “If I got on your bad side, would you put me in the microphone too?” You sounded weak. Uncertain. _ Afraid. _All of this was built up from fear— and if he was able to ease your worries, maybe… it would be okay. 

Alastor’s ears drooped. “I would never lock you away like that.” His smile was twitching at the edges, threatening to fall from his lips at any given moment. “That is a place for people and demons who have wronged me. Even if you hurt me… I don’t have the strength to put you away like that.” His fingers were clenching. He wanted to reach out to you, hold your hand. 

And you were about to let him, before your eyebrows furrowed. “... People?” 

He pulled back. You did as well. “Yes…well... I may have locked away that fool who murdered you,” he looked off to the side. “Allegedly.”

You stiffened. Just when you felt like everything might’ve been okay and you could talk this out like adults, a metaphorical bucket of ice water had been dumped upon you. You stared at the wall then, your fingers grasping at a pillow desperately to keep you grounded. “You what.” 

Your voice sounded so far away, _ you _ felt far away. Everything you had wanted, some sort of way to let your parents know you were okay, for them to know the truth of your death, would forever be lost because he didn’t listen to you _ again. _

You felt yourself drift into a world that wasn’t the present, all the stress the day had caused you, all of the worry and horror of what you witnessed. You had cried, you had sobbed, and it hadn’t helped. You had tried to talk, and it didn’t help either. You weren’t getting anywhere with this. He ruined what answers your parents could have gotten, and now you had no way of telling them. Kyle had been your only way of communication. 

The sound of fabric in the pillow tearing pulled you back into reality, and you looked down to the pillow to see your hands were now. Webbed. What “THE _ FUCK!” _

In your alarm, and a catastrophic amount of emotion and pain in your heart, you had somehow accessed your ability to begin the process of transforming. Now not only were you freaking out over your dumbass of a fucking boyfriend, you were also losing your shit over _ yourself. _

And you were awake and very much aware at that moment. No passing out for you.

“Darling, you are under a great deal of emotional stress…” Alastor commented uselessly, approaching you slowly with his palms facing outwards. “I can fix this, if you give me the time to do so.” 

You laughed. “Oh, you can fix this.” You sneered down at your hands, before you slid off of the bed on the other side, away from him. Your tail, which had begun to take form, began to flex side to side; the bioluminescence throbbed with your heartbeat. A direct warning to stay away. 

“You can fix my death? You can fix my parents' chances of finding out what happened to me? THAT I WAS MURDERED? How about—” You bit your lip instinctively and habitually, only to wince and release it once you tasted the metallic-like flavor.

You were blaming him for things that he had nothing to do with, and despite knowing that in the back of your mind, you were too distraught to listen to rationality. 

“How about the fact that I don’t know whether or not to believe you, or Angel, or myself? What if I’m just really that fucking idiotic at the fact that I can’t figure out _ anything?” _ Your hands rose in exasperation as you gestured in your midst of emotion. 

“I can’t even remember anything past a certain point! How do you expect me to figure out whether or not to believe you when everyone is telling me five hundred thousand different stories?_ ” _Your words were becoming jumbled as your mind raced around the thoughts. You flexed your fingers and bared your teeth at him. But it was also to yourself. You were angry at him, at yourself, and at Angel. 

“You know— Charlie told me her dad did this with Lilith too. But she didn’t tell me how _ hard _this was. No one did! No one ever asked me if I was okay with being chased after like I was some laser, and you the cat.” You pointed at him. 

“I wasn’t asked if I wanted any of this! No one asked me if I was okay with going down to Hell for the rest of fucking eternity because of some cheap-shot God who is supposed to be all so caring, but didn’t care if I was left to rot and wallow in my own fears.” You spat. 

“And what of my parents now? Now they don’t have any sort of closure! The ONE THING that I asked of you to do, and you ignored me again! Again, Alastor, _ again! _I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to leave them, I didn’t—” You felt the warmth trail down your cheeks yet again. Your breathing was ragged. 

He knew what he needed to do. “I see.” He hummed as he strode closer to you. “I believe I have the solution, if you’d like to hear it.” He folded his arms behind him. 

He was offering you a solution. As if he really _ did _ have a solution in regards to your problem. _ Problems. _You walked over to the desk silently, as you took a deep breath and rested your hands on it. You needed stability. 

“What is it?” You whispered. 

He brushed down his tailored suit. “I suggest we should go on the date.” 

Was he out of his fucking mind? “Go on a date!?” You spun around then again, any sense of stability you had managed to get, long gone. “A _ date? _Did you not listen to a thing I just said!?” You cried out in exasperation.

“Oh no, I was listening alright.” He laughed, humorlessly. “A shame really. I only have twenty four hours with you then.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Rest up, sharkling...” He dusted off his suit jacket while he spoke and fixed his hair. “I’ll see you first thing. Sleep well.” And he was gone. 

Your face was deep in anger, and then it traversed into disbelief, then confusion, and then realization of _ the _ date he spoke of. 

_ The deal date. _


	52. A Deal’s A Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Water IS wet. Suck my ass.

Sleep well he said, you mocked in your mind, _ sleep well. _You were neither resting nor well in this moment, as you had been for the past few hours. Or so it seemed. Honestly, it felt more like an incomprehensible amount of time had passed. But with the darkness shrouding your room, and you staring out the window to the best of your ability, albeit blankly, you were glad that there was at least something to show that time had gone by from the point you had gotten into bed, to now. 

The minutes blurred together in a mosh pit of indecipherable moments, and as you twisted and turned in bed, you only managed to lose even more hours to sleep. And it was all because of the events that had occured. How cruel it was- how easily things could change.

Your mind was so _ loud_, something that refused to give you the rest you so desired. It was filled with worries and woes of all of these different scenarios, all twisting and turning in the void of your brain, demanding to be let in. Your mind was already horrid enough during the day, but it had proven to be exceedingly toxic during the night. It was the only time where you were left with the silence of the insufferable thoughts and anxieties of your actions; and without anyone to help you through them.

You had made a deal that you had believed had been nullified, only for it to come back up again. Maybe you didn’t know what you had been getting into then, and honestly, you still didn’t. You were as clueless as you had been the moment you had arrived, and to top it all off… this time, you had more questions than answers. 

Thankfully, after who knows how long, you had managed to drift off after yelling at yourself, in your own head, to shut up. Just as eager to ignore the thoughts as they rose and fell like an everflowing wave upon a calm sea. Except, this sea was more of an open ocean in a raging storm. 

The dream you found yourself in was certainly _ not _ lucid. Your mind had placed you in a room that was of unknown origin, but it was cozy. You could see the fire in the fireplace, but you could not feel its warmth. You could not smell anything, but you could _ see_. The world was blurred at the edges; an unknown tune was skipping on a record player.

There was a high-backed chair that was faced away from you. The engravings in the leather were worn and tarnished from years of use; cracks in what was once a seamless texture. Upon it, an individual sat. You recognized him from the too-big ears and bright hair; he was unmistakable. You felt yourself call out to him, reach out to him, but you did not move your mouth. 

“Alastor?”

You moved closer to the chair, hesitantly, slowly, and even in the depths of this dream, you could feel the apprehension and uncertainty of what you would find. As you approached, you rested your hand along the curve of the furniture, the fabric rooting you to the spot. He, but _ not _he, was reading a book. The book did not hold the elegance of inked words upon it; it was blank and, even as he turned page after page, he seemed utterly enthralled by it.

Too enraptured by an imaginative world that held no vigilance to the dangers that it harbored. 

You moved a singular step, the world remaining unaffected by your presence as you tried again, the same vibration running through your vocal chords as you spoke his name. Finally, some recognition; but some that you wished you could have been ready for. For when he turned his head, you weren’t met with the red sclera or the grey-tinted flesh that he possessed; or that monocle he insisted on wearing despite you being pretty damn sure he didn’t need it. No, instead you were met with a face that was not a face at all.

His features looked like they had been smeared away by a faulty eraser, unrecognizable; it was filled in with something that was similar to the static on a television, the static that you often felt when near him. The infamous smile was doused in a silhouette of ink; as if it were simply painted on. It was a void of nothingness, hollow, corrupt. A blurred… monster. That radio silence that you had gotten used to began to rise in volume as it twisted through sound waves, before it repeated your voice right back to you. 

“Alastor?”

“Alastor?”

“_Alastor?”_

It grew darker, more fragmented, mocking even. Your heart lurched in your chest as you stepped back then. This wasn’t real. You tried to open your mouth, but despite feeling the pressure in the back of your throat- not a single sound came out. It was as if this mimic had stolen your voice as well, and no matter how hard you tried, pushing for a loud scream, nothing but air escaped. You took another step back, and then another. This wasn’t real, this wasn’t real! 

If you kept repeating this mantra, perhaps it would help you convince yourself that this was all some wicked form of a nightmare. You needed to wake up. But you could not bring yourself to. All you could do was stare, horrified. The heaviness in the air surrounded you as it started to suffocate you with the pressure of your own terror. 

Although you weren’t physically shaking, you couldn’t understand why all these reactions you should have been able to have weren’t happening. Even if you _ could _ convince yourself this was truly a dream, you knew one thing already: There was no way out. You were not allotted to the pleasure of escaping from this hell your mind had made.

Not this time. 

Its head remained eerily still, faced in your direction no matter where you went. Slowly, its stillness began to break with disjointed, jerky movements of its fingers; as if it were a puppet being controlled by strings. Like it needed to remember that it was alive. It did not possess the smooth movements that you associated with Alastor; the elegance he had.

The entire scene had you screaming internally because everything was just so unnatural about whatever... this thing was. But as it came to straighten itself out, it held up a mirror so that you could see yourself. 

You too, had no face. You were blurred and indecipherable, and that was the moment that you tore from the confines of your mind and shot up from your bed. You were clammy, sweaty, and out of breath. Your eyes immediately fell upon… a swamp. You were not in your bed. Your chest was heaving as you sought for the breath that filled your lungs so wonderfully. You could breathe. 

You had reactions, physical movements. This wasn’t a dream within a dream. But… You were all sorts of confused, and you gripped the sheets desperately. No high-backed chair or fireplace? Check. You barely noticed Alastor standing there as you immediately tore the blankets off of you and stumbled towards his dresser, where there was a mirror. 

“It seems you had a rather intriguing dream.” Alastor mentioned, standing still with his arms behind his back. 

You nearly cried in relief when you saw your reflection. “I have a face.” You gasped out, and then you turned to him. “You have a face.” You pointed weakly. And then you pinched yourself hard because you were in his room, and you precisely remembered that you had fallen asleep in your own room. In your own bed. But when you opened your eyes from squinting harshly, you were… still there. This was real. You were in his room? 

You were exceedingly confused, and your expression said it all.

He regarded you in a cold, uncaring hum; as if he were on a museum tour. Professional, analytical. “Ah yes,” he looked at the blankets that had been violently torn from their tucked in places. “As soon as you finally fell asleep I moved you here.” A pause as he looked to you. “I would _ like _ to make the most of the time we have.” It was almost a hiss as he turned from you then. 

“So if you would, follow me.” He spun on his heel as he started moving across the room to the swamp then. 

An expression of confusion formed upon your face, but it was probably too early to question anything; especially not the sudden change of his tone. Slowly, you followed after him, crossing the mahogany wooden floor, and you realized then that you had never felt so aware of… _ everything _. 

Of how wrong it all felt.

The way that each movement you made caused the floor to creak under your weight, the way there was a breeze from the swamp that had never been noticed before. Not once had you gone into his swamp before; and in some way, it frightened you because you weren’t sure if… it was real or not. Everything felt so surreal. Everything felt so fake. And in your disbelief, despite knowing you were actually awake and this _ wasn’t _a dream, you couldn’t help but bend down once you reached the bridge that he apparently installed, and touch the water. 

Wet. Yes, water was wet. And cold. But that was not something you would be able to feel during your dream. Just further assurance that you were no longer in the depths of your mind. Your stomach coiled nauseatingly, your breathing slowing as you dutifully followed behind him.

The wooden foundations of the bridge creaked when you stepped on it at first, and for a moment, you wondered if it would give out. 

You remained rooted at the base of it, the familiarity of the room beckoning you to stay and lounge around in a place that you were comfortable in. But time and time again, he had shown you that he would not lead you into danger, at least, not first-hand. This was still his room, and despite the ever growing and almost unfathomably large swamp that told you otherwise, you gave him the benefit of the doubt and trusted him… this one last time. 

You stepped onto the bridge. It didn’t collapse. You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your mouth felt dry, though, and you looked up after a moment of staring at your feet, already seeing him continuing to move down the bridge. He didn’t even bother to wait for you. “Wait!” You called out after him, finally shaking yourself out of your traumatic fears and moving after him. 

“Where are we going? What… are all of these?” Your confidence faltered as you got closer to him, and you slowed your pace until you were a few feet behind him. Despite you being the one keeping the distance, you couldn’t help but notice the odd, misty panels that were playing certain images and videos on loop. 

You weren’t exactly sure what these were. They looked eerily similar to what you had seen what already felt like a lifetime ago during the interaction between Ivy and Alastor. This led you to believe they were illusions of some sort. Just like this swamp was, just like the entirety of this relationship. 

You felt a sickness run up your throat as you tore your eyes from the screen, and as you drew a breath, you looked to Alastor curiously, who was staring pensively at one of the panels that hovered above the handrail. “We’re on our way to breakfast, but I wanted to share these with you first.” He nodded to the imagery before the two of you.

He didn’t dare to return your glance as he continued. “You see, these are _ my _ memories. I too did not get much sleep last night as these were playing on loop in my mind.” You saw how his fist clenched behind his back. Your instincts deep inside of you told you to be careful, that this could all turn incredibly dangerous in a matter of seconds. So you remained silent as you listened to him, and perhaps that was for the best. 

Because if you didn’t, you couldn’t trust yourself enough to be sure you wouldn’t say something you didn’t mean.

“For _ some _ of them,” he continued, ”I was very aware of what I had done wrong, and others, well, I was driving myself mad trying to see if I had continued to torment you or not…” He tutted, clicking his tongue as he shook his head. The image he was looking at was of the first tea party he had thrown; a petty move in response to when you punched him in the face and broke his monocle. Slowly, you took your eyes off of him, and looked up to the panel.

These memories were hand picked for a particular reason, and all of them felt like an incomprehensible amount of time had passed since you experienced them yourself. You watched through the eyes of the Radio Demon, and you were completely and utterly stumped in a mixture of confusion and, at first, _ delight _ at the fact that you were capable of defending yourself. You saw yourself sitting next to him, your eyes were crinkled as you tried your best to keep from bursting out into laughter. 

You let out a soft sigh, reaching up to poke at the screen; your curiosity truly knowing no bounds, but just as you were about to, the memory of your strained, oxygen-deprived face showed up on the screen. The memory of him choking you. You winced, and immediately tore your hand away from the screen, stepping back. Instinctively, your hand went to your throat to tentatively rub at it. 

“You see, I too held that reaction upon remembering it.” Alastor recalled. “I remember the _ anger _ you inspired inside me, and how it felt to hold your neck under my fingers…” He seemed to be lost in the memory, and his grin twitched at the edges.

Well, _ that _ didn’t make you feel any better. 

“-and I remember being so utterly lost as to why I had such a visceral reaction to you defending yourself against my advances.” He narrowed his eyes as he regarded you with a stare. You swallowed anxiously. “Then, of course, I remembered I had not quite figured it out yet that they _ were _ advances.” He gestured to the next panel over. Of when he had locked you both in that closet and he had licked your hand. 

There had been something that felt off, though— and it only took you a moment more of your own thoughts to realize that he wasn’t swathing you in pet names. And for one reason or another, it made this entire… deal date hurt more.

You warily looked at the memory. Your current expression twisted into a pained and disgusted one, and you removed your hand from around your neck to move your hands behind your back. It was in a similar manner to how he was; but the reasoning for you doing it, was to keep your hands away from _ him _; at least for the moment as you relived a memory that had drastic consequences to your psyche. 

“Why are you… showing me this?” You couldn’t look at him, and try as you might, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes trained on the screen and your distraught face as well. You felt nauseated at the sight of him quite literally feasting on your own blood. Whatever appetite you had was now completely dismissed. You felt queasy and the increase of saliva in your mouth told you that if you didn’t look away, you would expel all of your stomach acid all over this bridge.

You turned your face away, and swallowed harshly.

“I am showing you this,” Alastor explained, “because you need to know that I was being truthful with you throughout most of the duration of our time together and when I came to understand my feelings for you,” He pointed at the moment where you had told him he was infatuated with you. You took a heavy breath but forced yourself to look back at the screen. Thankfully, the image was different.

“I realized how foolish I was being… How I was letting you see the darkest parts of me, before you even knew there was another part, or the possibility that I was capable of being something other than a monster to you.” He let out a deep exhale and narrowed his eyes at his own actions.

He took a few steps deeper in, towards the next panel. “And even when I did realize my feelings for you, I didn’t know how to properly express them.” The panel showed him sneaking into your room and placing roses in there.

You didn’t follow after him for a moment, still too stuck on that particular memory. Where he had completely disrespected your boundaries, where he had touched you in a way that _ never _should have happened. You had told him you had forgiven him, you had found the strength to claim such a thing, but that didn’t mean you had forgotten. That didn’t mean you didn’t remember the feeling, the fear, or the pain— both physical and emotional. 

So you remained rooted there, before you were finally able to tear your gaze off of the screen and to see him once again continuing on without you. 

In a sense, seeing him carry on walking down the bridge made you realize that he… didn’t need you. Too eager to get to the next point, and then the next, while you were stuck on a point of your past that, despite what your words claimed, you had never truly moved on from. 

“Do you understand how these memories affected me?” You inquired weakly, and despite your legs feeling like weighed down jelly, you managed, very slowly, to get past that memory and follow him to the next. 

“I cannot even begin to _ fathom _ your feelings on the matter, and I won’t pretend that I understand even an iota of what you feel when you see these.” He explained, one of his arms still behind his back while the other motioned toward a few panels on the other side of the bridge. “All I can tell you,” he turned around to eye you, “is that _ this _ is what it has taken me to learn how to give you what you deserve, and that being with me there will likely always be a learning curve involved.” 

Deep down, you must have always known the consequences of his actions and yours, but you had been too naive to realize. You knew you weren’t the only one to… feel regret. Being with him and the good times? No, of course not. You didn’t regret those memories. But you regretted what it had all come to, in the end. 

But it was out of your control now, though, and it terrified you. 

You took a deep inhale and moved a few steps forward, before you braced yourself and stood next to him. If you had to experience these memories again… at the very least, you didn’t have to do it alone. You looked at the image of the roses laying on your bed, before taking your time to process it all. 

“You… seem to know where it all started. All of your feelings for me.” You started lightly. “I know when mine started for you, so I guess your persistence paid off in the end, huh?” You offered him an arm bump and a sad smile. It was a bittersweet moment, really. “I remember you told me that time would show my true feelings for you, and I hope it has.” You looked back to the screen then. And as much as he was trying, and you knew he was trying, the only one you couldn’t trust was yourself. 

Because that’s what it all came down to. You didn’t trust yourself, and you needed time to figure yourself out. You shook your head then, your eyes misting up before you began to look at the other panels; and this time, you took the lead as he began to explain all of these interactions.

“This is one of my favorites.” It was a soft mutter as he eyed you sweeping with the broom he had gifted you. That was until your expression completely soured upon seeing him toying with your old one. “This was the first time I think… you actually jibed with me, the first time you weren’t so horrified of me and what I had done to you.” He clenched his fist proudly then. 

“Where you threw caution into the wind and did whatever you wanted where I was concerned! Honestly, your confidence when interacting with me has always been a point of admiration. It has never failed to impress me, and make me feel even more for you than I thought possible.” With his hand he seemed to stroke the side of the mist in an affectionate manner. 

“You truly are so intriguing.”

He was literally going to kill you by making this harder than it already was. “Fear has a way of making you do stupid things.” You murmured, watching the spat take place, before you saw yourself actually _ smile _and enjoy his presence. “But at that moment, I wasn’t afraid. And I… don’t know what got messed up, I don’t know if my experience with you changed me, but I would die a million times to feel that again.” You smiled sadly.

“To not fear what could come, or the consequences that follow.” But here you were. “But right now, I’m terrified.” And you were a fool to believe that you could get through this with a brave face, because each memory he showed you, had you question yourself even more.

“On that, I understand you completely. I never thought such a small, little demon would have me in such a state.” He eyed you then, a small smile on his lips before he breathed in harshly and tilted so that he could turn away. “Let’s keep going then.” The panel next to that one, was of you both out on the patio after you all had met your convicted murderer: Kyle.

“_This_.” You said suddenly. “Is the moment I started to l-” You stopped yourself. “... Like you.” You settled, rolling your shoulders. “First time I held your hand.” You declared, clearing your throat with a surprising amount of pride. Because _ you _ had done that. You had been the one to meet him half-way. Bittersweet, indeed.

“Yes.” He agreed. “This was one of those learning curve moments.” Alastor gazed upon the memory. “It was also one of the first times I was able to really open up with you.” A beat. “It’s strange how isolated power can make you feel. One must _ never _ be weak, or show that they have feelings, but in my experiences with you, it’s when I show you I am able, that we are able to get somewhere.” His eyes softened as he looked at the memory of the two of you. 

“I don’t know if you’re aware… I first came outside then because you had forgotten your coat. I didn’t want you to be cold.” His eyes fell to you in his peripherals. “I never expected this sort of outcome. Though it was indeed, a lovely surprise.” A deep hum rumbled in his chest as he returned his gaze to the memory. 

That was… kind. You remained silent though, just in case you said something that would make this worse than you were beginning to realize it would all come out to be. You watched as your hand fell onto his own, how you taught him how to hold a hand like an actual human being. You clenched your fist, but then released it with a sigh. You were making this hard for yourself. 

But reason was too far out of your reach right now.

“It’s also the moment where I told you that you didn’t have to leave me alone.” The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them, an inner monologue that had come to light. “Right, um.” You cleared your throat, avoiding eye-contact as you stepped past him. “N-next?” This was so difficult, and how much you wouldn’t give to just… go back to the start.

But no one ever said it was going to be easy.

“Yes. You know, my original plan was to use twenty-four hours, Heaven time.” He explained swiftly. “It was why I agreed so quickly to your original deal. But, I have since changed my mind.” He took the few steps needed to walk to the next panel, which showcased the moment you both had in the swamp with his stupid chalkboard. 

Well, it definitely made a lot more sense. No one could out-deal the original deal maker. 

“And of course, how could I ever forget that charming moment we spent in my swamp where you told me about all of my mistakes, giving context to my board. And then, of course, our kiss.” Even though you both had seen other things, you still noticed that he blushed when mentioning it, even if it was such a casual drop. 

He was making this hard for you on purpose, you were convinced. 

It was like wishing for rain when standing in a desert, that all of these things would just change… your decision. A few more hours spent in the depths of your mind as you had twisted and turned in your sleep, you had come to the decision that you really _ did _ need time. Time was what you needed now, and while he may not have seen it that way, you knew it was best. Or at least, you thought so.

But what did you know?

You had closed your eyes after a moment, as you brought your index finger to your own lips. How you would kill to feel his lips again, to feel his comfort that you weren’t even sure was real; he was a deal-maker, a master manipulator. 

But just as quickly, you reopened your eyes and brought your hands to your side once more. Despite you praying that you would still somehow end up together in the end, you knew you had to get through this, for the both of your sakes. You inhaled a deep, audible breath as you steeled your nerves. Charlie said you could do this, though, you were sure she didn’t mean it regarding this ‘deal date’, but you were taking what you could get, okay? You could do this. 

You could get through this.

You had to.

“Now prepare yourself for this one, this is rather difficult considering the goings of our last day.” He motioned to the next panel, the one with the longest memory playing in the mist. “Our first date… You looked so lovely.” He reminisced fondly. “For some reason this played in my mind for so long last night, as I felt it was the first time I had actually done something right, treated you as you deserved to be treated.”

“You did.” you said, blinking up at the screen.

“Yes. I certainly hope so.” 

You had said yes too fast, you had been caught up in the moment of this lovely fairytale. Where you had offered him your trust, and gave him the false promise that everything would turn out alright. Because apparently, it didn’t. “I’m sorry.” You choked out. “For leading you on.” You turned to him then. “I didn’t mean to.”

You and your big, fat mouth.

He visibly stiffened. “Hmm, yes. Don’t worry about it. We both did things we didn’t mean, for instance, when I told you that you held my heart I meant it. You are still too young to understand what that means, perhaps I put far too much faith in you to take care of something that was already dying.” He leaned forward to grip the hand rail, squeezing it hard enough in his hands for the wood to make an uncomfortable cracking noise. 

“Onwards to the last one, shall we?” 

You opened your mouth, but no words were released. You had no excuses. You remained quiet as you followed after him then, but you trailed a lot slower than you had originally. You felt numb, your breath wavered slightly. For the next one, you didn’t dare come close to him, because you didn’t need to.

_ You could hear it. _

Playing within the mist, was an image you did not remember that well. He was holding you close, stroking your hair, and he was reciting a poem to you. This had been after the date… where you had both fooled around. His eyes in the memory were locked on your sleeping face, unable to move, and you heard the words. 

“The moon and sun have danced eternal,

Sweetly chasing each other’s embrace

Though one’s inferno

May threaten the others kindly face,

It is such that lovers find themselves

Chasing after each other with hope

Sometimes even finding forever

In the throws of fate’s red rope

It is such that I love thee

Always chasing the hope I find within you

I can only wish that one day

You might store some affection for me in your sinew

Your bones and tendons, and the supple skin covering,

I have found no greater work of art in tact

I should like to remain with you always

So I may trace my fingers across the delightful arch in your back.”

“It’s an original work, just so you know.” He declared, but you were too lost in your shock that you barely heard him. Your chest felt constricted, your jaw unhinging and hypothetically falling to the ground. He wrote a poem… for you? You were in such a profound state of disbelief that he’d be so heartfelt… it made you start to believe him.

“I realized you were sleeping when I started reciting it to you, but you inspired such emotion in me that I picked up an old habit I had while I had been alive.” He released a sigh and shook his head. “So, onto breakfast then?” And he turned from you. 

Eyes wide, you turned so quick that you could have gotten whiplash. “Al, wait-” you said, “I-I believe you.” The color drained from your face. It wasn’t a problem that he had to face; he was a murderer, this was Hell for fucks sake, and you had been placed here against your will. Along with the rest of them. No one wanted to be here.

He had been trying to learn, and you couldn’t fucking believe that all it took for you to realize, and click in your mind that the problem _ wasn’t _ him, was the poem. The problem had never been him. This grand problem that caused all of this to happen, was because of you. The problem was _ you. _

But now, such words would only fall on deaf ears.

“Wonderful, come on over then.” Alastor motioned without turning around, his hand waving behind him for you to follow. Ah, the cold shoulder.

Silently, you did. Your eyes remained trained on your feet as you dragged them forward. You may have been quiet, but you had a war raging in your head. 

He led you to a great willow tree that was beginning to wither. Dying white flowers were gently cascading down into the water. This was a more grassy area of the swamp you had never seen before. There was a metal table set up with that cart you remembered, filled with breakfast foods. He stood patiently behind one of the matching seats. 

“If you would do me the honor of dining with me.” He motioned with his hand to the seat in question. 

You didn’t have much of an appetite, paired with the fact that everything was going so quick all of the sudden, you had just woken up from a nightmare, and now all of the memories were flooding back to you, granted, you had to even relive some. But a deal’s a deal, as much as it killed you to think that this was all it was. A means to an end. 

You swallowed the thickness that had built up in the back of your throat and forced yourself to walk past him and settle in the seat. Your hands were placed on the table rim, but once you realized that you were actually shaking, you placed your one hand over the other, and moved them to be hidden from view, just beneath the table.

He carefully moved your seat forward and quietly moved to sit himself across from you. “It’s rather crazy how much things can change so quickly. I didn’t think we’d be back at square one so fast, but alas, isn’t that just the way things sometimes are?” He was staring off into the peace of the swamp, sipping on his coffee, not even looking at you. 

You watched him for a moment, perhaps a moment too long as a small frown danced across your lips. You opened your mouth, and then closed it again when no words dared to leave. Slowly, you picked at a waffle and placed it on your plate, focusing your attention quietly on it. 

“I didn’t expect you to speak much today. I fear all words for the situation are utterly lost. But,” He finally turned to you, a small contemplative smile on his lips. “But I will always appreciate this last try. Thank you.” He gave you a small nod and turned back to the swamp. His focus was drifting to those falling, greying flowers. 

You couldn’t do this right now. You didn’t want to feel this way so early in your day. You didn’t want to feel this indecisiveness and uncertainty. All of the fear, worry, or the hope that you still had buried deep within the suffocating mass of all of those problems. You feared that if you opened your mouth to say something, you would express every little issue like you had the previous day, but you couldn’t help it.

“...The dream I had was about you.” You whispered. “Me.” Your eyes fell to the bark on the wood of the tree. Perhaps it was useless to try to start a conversation. But you didn’t want to sit in silence.

“Hmm.” He paused, raising his finger into the air and swirling it around, many of the fallen flowers lifted with the movement and began lazily swirling around the table as he did so. “Was it a dream, or a nightmare? I don’t recall having too many dreams surrounding my own lack of a face.” The comment was softly spoken, and his eyes remained away from you for the duration of his words. 

“I don’t know the difference these days.” Because, what was a dream when it was paired with the nightmare of reality? You forced yourself to stuff a waffle piece into your mouth. 

“I find that hard to believe.” He scoffed. ”Even in the darkest of times your mind knows the difference between a dream and a nightmare and considering how violently you woke this morning, I’m positive it’s the latter.” He sounded bored, even as he was creating this beautiful scene of wilting flowers around you both, but he still couldn’t look at you. 

You watched the spectacle surround you both, sadness and uncertainty in your gaze. You heard how he sounded, how monotone his voice was and how utterly different it was compared to his spontaneous and cheerful demeanor. 

“Do I bore you?” You commented idly. 

A humorless laugh filled the space between you.

“I am quite sure you boring me is impossible. Forgive my mood, I seem to be having a difficult time mustering up enough strength to get through the day.” His face slowly turned to you. Slow blinking eyes met yours. “I think this might be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. But it’s what needs to be done, I’m afraid.” His thumb started tapping softly on the table. At least he wasn’t faceless. 

You pushed out your chair then, and stood up. You weren’t sure what you were doing until you were doing it, which happened quite a lot, but even if your pajamas were ruined through the swamp water that still swept up quite a bit on the dry grass, you didn’t really care all that much. 

When you stood next to him, you found yourself at a loss for words, but just standing up and being close to him had you feel better, somewhat. “Can I have your hands.” It wasn’t a questionable tone, nor a command, but perhaps a suggestion. You looked down at your own which were splayed towards his.

He narrowed his eyes at you briefly, curiosity coloring his stare. He gave you a nod and settled his large hands onto yours, loosely wrapping his fingers around your hands. 

The moment it was done, you found your heart nearly gave out, before you took a step closer, wrapping your own fingers weakly around his. “This… stupid hand holding is what brought us together.” At the very least, you supposed it was. He had chased after you for a long time, but it had been your first time you had felt a semblance of affection for him. You looked down at your hands, your thumb rubbing across a few of his knuckles. 

“And I am afraid, for right now,” your voice cracked, “it is what is going to tear us apart.” You couldn’t look up at him.

“For the next twenty-four hours, you may do whatever you wish with me, wherever you wish.” You recalled. “That was the deal. And I know I have come to believe you in these last moments, and I… I don’t know how that changes your thoughts, but I- my decision has been made.” You couldn’t… live like this for right now. Not until you could figure out what was true or not, and find out who you were, as well. And not just past actions, or who you were in the past. But who you were now.

“You want me to honor the original deal, and leave you alone afterwards? I’m way ahead of you.” He squeezed your hands in his, lightly, his own thumbs curling around your knuckles. “There was a reason I instigated this.”

“No.” You cut him off. “No, it’s not about the original deal, Alastor,” You said. “I am returning your heart to you. You said that I’m too young to understand such a thing, anyway. I shouldn’t have ever had it. You shouldn’t… have trusted me with it. It was too early.” 

He ripped his hands out of yours and stood. He was next to the willow tree, his arms crossed behind his back, knuckles turning white under his gloves, and you were sure of it with how tightly he was holding his wrists together. You could sense the hurt simply by his body language alone. With how stiff he held himself. You balled your fists then, before finally, you snapped.

All of the guilt and emotions clashing against each other caused tears to begin to stream down your cheeks. You had died by drowning, and you were drowning again. This time, by your own accord. Because you couldn’t understand _ yourself. _

If you had realized that the problem had been you sooner, all of this would have never happened. 

“I am already breaking it, don’t you see? I am doing this for both of our sakes!” You cried, trying to get him to see reason, but you had already lost. “You wanted me to take care of it, but I am not!” He needed to see that you were doing this for both of your sakes. He needed to understand!

“What use do I have for a broken heart?” He ended by softly saying your name. “You may keep the tattered old thing, I have no place for it.” He turned back to you, his eerie smile twitching madly. “But then again, you don’t seem to have a place for it either.” He spat, coldly. 

“It’s of no import. Don’t try to make this situation any better, for we both know there is no salve. You never trusted me, and I won’t blame you for that, but I won’t stand here and accept your affections from some misconstrued sense of pity.” His voice only got darker as he spoke those words to you, his antlers growing a fraction, but enough for you to tell. 

You balled your fists at your sides as you let out an exasperated half-yell of frustration. “I am not doing this, or saying these things because I don’t want you! I have told you time and time again that I do, but who do I trust if I can’t even trust myself? Alastor-” You took a step closer to him, your hands forward and raised in a ‘backing down’ motion. You didn’t mean any harm, but you supposed you already harmed him. “You told me time was the only salve, time is the only way it can fix this.”

“Yes, time may heal all wounds, but only if you don’t have people whispering into your ear ripping those wounds back open.” Alastor took a step backwards from you and raised his own hand in motion for you to stop. “Angel was able to get to you in a way that I never expected, I thought you at least had more faith in me than that. How can I hope that is a part of you that will ever change?”

You stopped moving, your hands falling to your sides limply. “Because that’s what I’m _ doing _ by leaving you!” You cried out. “I need _ time _to figure out who I am! I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have because I care about you, and I know, I fucked up, but it showed me that I need to change. Do you not understand that that’s the only reason—” your arms flew out to motion towards the entirety of the memories he had shared with you, along with the breakfast he had made. “That’s the only reason I am doing this, Al. It’s… It’s the only reason.”

You looked at him with an emotion-riddled expression. “I-I want to change. But I need time! Please… give me time.”

But he would rather let you wallow in misery.

“I had hopes of reliving the more charming parts of our courtship today… but I think it best if we spend this time how you would like it to be spent.” He looked off to the side. ”I have made many decisions without your input before, and perhaps better late than never would be applicable here. And should you choose to not spend this time with me, I shall leave you to your own devices.” His voice has stopped emitting static, and for him at least, his face was stoic. There was nothing you were able to read about him. 

Your expression was the exact opposite of his— where he was able to put on a faćade to best protect himself, you were unable to do such a thing. Emotions flickered from disbelief, sorrow, guilt, confusion, and a multitude of other emotions that you were not entirely sure how to convey through words. “I never wanted to hurt you.” You said after a moment. “But it seems I already have. This is _ not _your fault.” It was yours. 

Because you were incapable of trusting, and in your attempt to heal a friendship that probably should have never been created, you had broken the only relationship you had really ever felt happiness in. 

“But you cannot ask me to trust you so easily.” You looked back at him with determination, at last. “This fault may and will always be mine, because I am indecisive and unsure of who to trust, including myself!” You wouldn’t let him make you feel like shit, because you were already feeling that way. You had made a big mistake, but his salt was pissing you off. 

“Because I was thrown into the bowels of fucking Hell, where demons thrive and liars hide in every corner! I don’t know who to trust, because I can’t even trust MYSELF! You can’t ask me to trust you simply because we’ve had good times together, Alastor! I believe you that you love me, but I need _ time! _” You cried out, your sorrow and desire to not feel so… useless, fueling your anger. 

“I am angry at myself for falling for you so quickly, and not giving us the time we needed to heal. I am not here to give you pity, and I’m not searching for any myself. The last thing I need are more lies.” 

You rested your hands on your knees, as you finally looked back up to him after a moment. You felt so weak. “Lies are what makes the world go round. And I may be naive in the sense of our relationship, but I know that if you are telling the truth and you… you love me, and you’re not just using me, then you will give me the time I need to figure myself out.” 

One of his brows rose. “I see.” He stepped around you, avoiding touching you at all costs. He took three long strides to bring himself back to the table to pour himself a new cup of coffee. “Well then, if it’s time you need, please take the rest of eternity to _ figure it out _, you’ve already made it more of a Hell for me in the past few hours than I have ever needed to know.” He turned around slowly, his smile soft. 

How the fuck was his smile light hearted when his words were suffocating and cruel?

“Thank you for giving me one week of what life could have been, had you been more sure of us.” He snapped his fingers and bright green light flashed across your vision as Alastor summoned the seal that held you to this deal. “I think a week was more than enough time.” The seal, which looked like a bright light in the shape of a scroll, cracked open and crumbled to dust before you. 

Your heart cracked the exact same way.

“Our deal is completed. Take all the time you need. I’m tired of fighting, for once.” He took one step towards you and nodded. “For what it’s worth… I never lied to you about things that counted, and I will always love you. You’ll always be my little sharkling. Goodbye.” He said, and in a flash of light, left you standing by the willow tree. 

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, and with how much time he alloted you to figure out yourself, you very much could have. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and your legs suddenly felt like jelly. He was there one minute, and gone the next, and in the following moment, you fell to your knees and grasped at the grass that could have very well just been an illusion. 

You knotted it in your grip and rocked forward so your forehead rested against the ground, sobs coming forth as your face contorted into the most pained emotion that you would ever be able to bring forth. Gasps fell from you as you continued on, and on. If your heart had been a harp, he had brought a pair of scissors and cut all of the strings. 

Perhaps you had stayed there for what felt like hours, but truthfully, it could have very well been minutes. Time was fucked up down here, which was apparent. All you knew was that you cried until you could cry no more, and it was at the point where you sniffled, brought your fist up, and wiped away what emotion could be found upon your face. Of course, paired with the pink, puffy eyes and wobbling lip, it wasn’t hard to guess that you had been crying. 

The petals that had once been daintily surrounding the table, now laid upon the ground in a heap. You tore your gaze from them, and shakily pushed yourself up. There was mud and dirt and water that stained your pants, shoe imprints left in the ground that was proof enough that Alastor had been there. That everything had actually happened. 

And now you were alone, in a swamp, left to your own devices to figure everything out. Your deal was complete. Your heart, along with his, was raw and broken, and every single thing that you had ever felt for him and experienced became realized once more, just as you made your way towards the dying willow tree and settled yourself at the base of it.

You brought your knees to your chest, and were entirely too happy to remain there until you rotted away like the very tree you sat under and whatever… other wood there was in this swamp. And you probably would have, if a movement and soft splashing hadn’t caught your attention. 

A tiny little… swamp thing was rummaging around in the grass, it’s many eyes settled on the table. With a couple of very impressive hard swipes, it knocked the cart over, so many foods spilling over with it. It’s long muzzle softly nudged certain items aside, pushing away baked goods and eggs, only to start munching happily on the strips of bacon it was able to find. 

You stared at the… alligator? It was a monstrous thing, though, with a multitude of eyes all roaming around, taking the place of scales. The few scales you could see scales and various spikes seemed sharper, too, but it was small. Your first instinct was to run and hide, but the longer you watched it, the more your sorrows faded into the beginnings of curiosity. Distraction.

You needed distraction.

“Hey,” you said weakly, sniffling, before you snapped your fingers a few times to get it’s attention. You hadn’t been aware that… he had actual fauna in the swamp. You were also hoping that it wouldn’t eat you.

The little critter in question looked up briefly, many of his little peepers swirling like googly eyes to focus on you. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why he had never seen you in here before, and where the Big One was. The Big One came with all types of meat, and Critter loved meat.

You sat up then, slowly, your palms facing outwards. “I don’t know… if you understand me,” honestly, you didn’t understand yourself half the time. “But if you don’t hurt me, I can get you… actual food.” You doubted it wanted to eat whatever he had made, or maybe it liked it because Alastor probably made it out of people. You didn’t even want to think about that possibility, or him. Depression sucked. 

You got up then, and slowly made your way towards it. Was this a pet of Alastor’s? Did it have parents? You weren’t even sure if it was a baby or not, but it was small. Maybe it was one of those things that looked tiny and helpless, before swallowing you whole. You had to be careful. 

Cautious.

These big things were so weird! They always tried talking to Critter, but Critter could never say anything back. These big things were pretty stupid sometimes, so he just turned his head and started eating the left over meat that he had aquired. Y’know, like a carnivorous animal would. 

You walked over to the table then, but not before grabbing a long stick and poking at the cart in an attempt to push it away. It could eat the bacon and stuff, sure, but what would it eat after that? When you pushed it slightly away, you were able to see the countless eyeballs staring right back at you, and you took a step away. 

Other than those, it was relatively gator-looking.

Critter followed after some of the dislodged meat, letting out a coo as he tripped on his small legs. Some white cream smeared over some of his eyes and he started to release these… crying sounds. Sometimes Critter had the hardest life, how was Critter supposed to live with stuff in its eyes!?

Oh god. It sounded like an old video game you used to play… Huh weirdly you could remember that. You took a step forward, and while sniffling, you began to ‘sh’ it repeatedly. “It’s okay, hey—” You weren’t sure what it was doing, but it didn’t like cream cheese over its hundreds of eyes apparently. People sometimes had rebound hoes, but maybe you could have a rebound pet, alright? 

You picked it up then, if it would allow you. “I won’t hurt you.” As you said before, but apparently you hurt people on the regular.

Critter kept crying, because now Critter was in the air, and Critter couldn’t even eat anything anymore. But, Critter noticed the gentle touches on his eyes. Critter blinked collectively, which to most was probably weird and a bit off-putting, and noticed the Small Big One was red in the face. 

Critter stopped crying so he could watch the Small Big One clean Critter off. And warm was good. Sometimes the water was cold, but the Big Big One was always warm. It seemed the Small Big One was warm too. 

“You’re a weird…” you murmured, grabbing a napkin and wiping off the cream cheese from its body. “Critter, aren’t you?” At the very least, with the distraction it was giving you, the least you could do was help it out.

Critter chirped at hearing his name. Critter liked the Small Big One. Critter started to rumble in his little chest, his googly eyes going wild. 

“... Critter?” You said, guessing that was the reason it was going wild. You tilted your head slightly. If The One Who Shall Not Be Named™ had named it—nope, this was supposed to be a distraction. You weren’t going to think about him—you guessed that was the reasoning. You finished cleaning the gator off, and held it away from your face.

You suddenly turned at the sound of your name being called, just in time to see the door burst open.

Charlie came running up to you, a growing look of concern on her face as she waved a piece of paper around herself madly, before she stopped, looking at the thing in your hands. “Al res— What is that?” Charlie stopped to catch her breath looking around curiously. This was some impressive magic. “He really did have a swamp in his room, huh? Anyways! Doesn’t matter! Al resigned, you’re crying, what happened?” 

Your eyes were wide, alongside Critter’s as they all settled on Charlie. Your original depression soon came back tenfold, you found yourself growing warm in the face again, especially with the fact that… he was really gone. He was gone. The deal was done and you were standing with a sopping wet baby alligator monster creature thing, and you were trying to distract yourself. 

But, as you placed it down, you hesitantly took the paper out of her hands and read the letter. 

**Formal Resignation Letter**

It was all there, scrawled in his handwriting. The date, the explanation that only stated that he would not be returning… as long as you remained there. Your heart completely cracked in two then, and you began to tremble. You were glad you had placed Critter down, because you didn’t trust yourself to hold _ yourself _up anymore. 

It felt so hard to breathe. 

“I…” you watched as a wet spot formed upon the paper. You sniffled. Charlie let out a small ‘oh’, and then she was surrounding you in her arms. He was, really, really gone. 

And in that moment, where your worst fear was realized, you also discovered that no amount of pinching would be able to allow you to escape; because this time, it wasn’t a dream.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, and get something else for you to wear.” Charlie offered after a moment, placing a hand on your back.

“But—“ you tried, before you remembered the gator. You looked down. It was gone. You looked back towards the cart, only to see it eating the bacon and meats again. You sighed, and let your head droop. “Okay.” You sniffled, once more. 

“Okay.” She whispered, taking the paper back from you. 

It would be… okay.


	53. Well, When Life Gives You Lemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ graphic descriptions of violence and gore ⚠️

Time was such a fickle thing, practically vacant in a plane of existence such as this where the suffering and sorrow had forged itself into a realm of hallucinatory wishes that would never be fulfilled.

It was all so... foreign in the grand scheme of things; the inability to understand the concept of what exactly had gone wrong, and oh, the humanity! Such a wicked and vile outcome of something that had once been so pleasant, and one that had caused him to feel particularly butchered in a way that  _ wasn’t  _ the result of a weapon. No, this was something entirely different! It surely was not something that could be compared to the victims that he had chosen and so mercifully put out of their misery. 

This wasn’t a quick silencing of their fate, no, this continued to burn in his chest until it threatened  _ him _ . It didn’t ebb away, but instead it grew stronger. Perhaps that was why his chest felt so heavy, so painful— for she had carved his heart out and stomped on it, or! Or! Maybe she had taken up the artistry of butchering herself, figuratively, of course, for how else could he explain the way that his heart felt? 

Tattered and torn, holding itself together by the bare minimum. 

But alas, Alastor sighed through his nose as he sat on his porch. At the very least, he wasn’t  _ completely _ alone. Despite the solitary lifestyle that he willingly chose, he was accompanied by two of his companions. Of course, they weren’t the companions that someone of the… right mindset would choose, but they were his nonetheless. 

Two Daemonis Alligatoridae, affectionately dubbed George and Georgina, a native to this land and creatures that appeared to never stop growing. They had been fed; thus that duty had been accounted for. He needed nothing more than to wallow in self-pity now. He readjusted his monocle momentarily as he leaned forward, his lips and subsequent smile covered by his joint hands. 

How long had it been since he had last been in the comfort of his own home? The familiar textures and smells were now unfamiliar, an old life that did not seem quite right anymore. In comparison, it was similar to visiting an old friend you had lost contact with; things were nostalgic, but in the most peculiar of ways.

Endless stretches of marshy swampland, cattails swaying pleasantly, the limber branches of the willows he had on his property whistling as that very same wind breezed through them. It was a lovely day, truthfully, and yet everything inside him felt rotted as he recalled her words: “ _ Because that’s what I’m doing by leaving you _ .” 

He felt hollow with the thought.

He sat up straighter in his rocking chair, and crossed his hands so that they would rest in his lap as he continued to survey his land. All of the papers she had printed out, the haunting image of him claiming a soul... she hadn’t asked about his past, no, she had just gone behind his back and did the research herself! It was as admirable as it was hurtful. 

There were thousands of reasons he hadn’t wanted to share that all with her. She was already more than aware of his propensity for darkness and his inclinations for torture and the like. He wasn’t  _ always  _ a dark and twisted individual— there  _ were _ other aspects of his being that he had finally been able to explore with her. It wasn’t a secret as to why he had ended up in the bowels of Hell, afterall. He wasn’t some strange mishap like she was. 

He knew he belonged here, and most of the time he enjoyed his time in Hell far more than the average denizen. 

The chaos, the torture, oh, all of the lovely screams! There were so many lovely memories he had of going on his own little exterminations! Whenever people were getting a little too comfortable here, he would take it upon himself to cut his way through the streets, quite literally! 

He adored using his claws to rip into demons, spilling their innards onto the pavement; the screams as the denizens ran away from him were so musical. In fact, some of his more interesting broadcasts happened on a whim when some fools tried to assert themselves over him. 

He always had a grand time with those.

Alastor remembered a particularly hilarious time when he ripped the arm out of some lizard demon’s socket and slapped him with it! And then there was the psychological damage he could inflict upon people who he trapped in his microphone. 

But then of course he had to meet  _ her. _

One of the strangest looking demons, truly, all because of how painfully human she looked. It was not everyday one came across someone who looked so… normal compared to the other citizens of Hell. That alone was able to tell him her crimes above had been minor at best. 

In the beginning he had wanted to break her down slowly, patiently, earn her trust and laugh as she came to him for help. He wanted to watch her drown in her problems and fears. She was so easily swayed. In fact, it would have been so easy to get a deal out of her; perhaps even make her his forever. She was pitifully naive then, and he could make the same argument now. How easily he could have destroyed her from the inside out, and what fun he could have had to make her feel like she was going insane. 

He  _ could _ have made her feel like the only source of truth in Hell was him! That he was her savior in these dark and trying times! But then… every time he planned anything for her, she would fight against it, fight against him, and sometimes even herself. And then she, miraculously, made him realize he didn’t actually want any of that from her. What he wanted was her by his side, giving him the happiness he had never been able to find living, or undead. 

He had wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, stain the only white linen he had been able to find, but instead, he was the one who was left feeling used. 

How had he actually fooled himself into believing that a being as pure as she was could actually come to love someone as twisted and wicked as him! He wasn’t one to mince words and pretend to be something he wasn’t. He thrived in causing chaos, performing for an audience, toying with other demons like they were simply put in place for him to knock down. Yet, somehow, she threw a wrench in every single one of his plans simply by being herself. 

He released a drawn out sigh. 

There were many thoughts and trails he could get lost in, but he was nothing if not efficient. 

He had plans today still, and he intended to follow through with them. He summoned his microphone to hold in the crook of his elbow, and sent his shadow to his intended destination. This should at least help with releasing some of his pent up emotions… perhaps some aggression, too. He’d find out once he got there. 

When he was able to sense that his shadow had stopped travelling, he sent his physical body to follow, bringing him to stand in front of a run down building, and a sign that read: The Immediate Murder Professionals. 

These idiots had best not anger him, he was in no mood. 

He opened the door and was immediately assaulted with the smell of rotted salad and avocado. How delightful. Without any respect for his surroundings, he strolled right into the vicinity, completely intolerant to whatever shenanigans they could be up to. There, manning the desk, was a bored and relatively preoccupied hellhound.

He never did understand those silly rectangular boxes. 

Alastor, nevertheless, strolled up to her, a singular arm nestled into the crook of his back while the other was rested on the desk. He made sure that his claws forged divots into the metal.

“Hello, I’d like to speak with the owner of this business.” His smile was manic, and his pupils had threatened to shift into something of terrible evil. He was simply in no mood to wait today. But alas, the hellhound did not seem to give a damn.

Loona had been playing a game on her Hellphone, as she often did when assigned to do... actual work. Her attention was solely trained on the screen, either choosing to ignore the new customer, or just continuing to sink into the sound of the music blasting through her earbuds, because c’mon, her game was far more important. It wasn’t like their victim would just go and die, and if they did, it was less work for them!

Her legs were crossed, her feet propped up on the counter against a stack of probably important papers. She didn’t care. If they needed something, they could move her feet. Overall she was left unbothered, as Moxxie often claimed that she gave him a ‘splitting migraine’, but like… 

He was already the physical embodiment of one anyway. 

Alastor lifted his hand and slammed it so hard onto the desk, his hand made a large dent in the surface. “If you don’t raise your head, I will happily remove it from your body, you idiotic little  _ dog _ .” He sneered. 

Her phone slipped out of her grasp at the distraction and onto the floor. It flopped there for a moment, before Loona reached down, grabbed it, and the moment she turned it around, a large groan fell from her. The words ‘Game Over’ flashed brightly on the screen, and her lips peeled back to reveal an arsenal of sharpened teeth. 

“Damn it!” She slammed the phone onto the desk, before she finally looked up. “What gives, man? You cost me a life!” A huff, before she peered over at the indentation of the desk. “Your damages also cost us, way to go.” She crossed her arms in a huffy-puffy manner, entirely too pissed off at the fact that she lost her level. Loona leaned back against the chair, her head falling back against it. 

_ “BLIIITZØ!”  _

And then with a stink eye, she returned to playing her game. Talk about an  _ asshole _ .

Alastor rolled his eyes. The youth these days certainly held no respect. 

Not a moment too soon, Blitzø peeked his head out of his office. “Loona! Snuffle-kins~ What can I—” His eyes landed on the Radio Demon and then Loona’s desk. They narrowed. “Uh, what the shit are you doing here? You already took the kid.” Why else in Satan’s red ass would the Radio Demon be here? Honestly, he could have said the same thing about Lucifer, Charlie and that… girl who had them going on a chase for a job they weren’t even made for.

Alastor placed his microphone on the floor, the pole making a sharp tap on the flooring as he settled his hands over the voice piece. “I require the use of Stolas’ book, if you don’t give it to me, I will happily take it and never return it.” The Radio Demon didn’t need to threaten, for he always made good on his  _ promises.  _ “I also need the files dealing with Miss Magne’s case she opened here.” 

Blitzø laughed, a snobby, mocking laugh. “Haha, yeah okay, and I want the Chinese place down the street to stop serving rats, but sometimes, that shit just doesn’t fly, so really, what the fuck do you want?” He remained behind the door, perhaps not wanting to expose more of himself than he had to. 

Loona had lowered her music so she could eavesdrop, but did nothing more.

Alastor beamed as he took two long steps forward. Oh, it had been so long since he could indulge in his very specific inclinations! “That sounds like a personal problem to me, and I’m not in the business of solving problems for free, however, about the items I asked for…” 

He narrowed his eyes. “You had best go run along and fetch them before I start severing limbs.” Alastor leaned back, rubbing his index and thumb over his chin. “Mind you, I really wouldn’t mind. I have been having a troublesome day and some R&R sounds so lovely right now, but then again, so does a good thigh roast! It’s one of the few things you imps are good for anyway.” 

He smiled charmingly down at Blitzø.

The imp was staring blankly up at Alastor, unsure of whether or not to take him seriously. Listen, he came across a lot of fucked up individuals doing what he did, and some had especially weird ass humor. Before he could respond, however, the door flew open.

“Sir! Here’s the book for the latest customer, we should really get started because the victim is—“ Moxxie entered through the swing door, holding the spell book in hand. The moment he saw the Radio Demon, however, he quickly looked between Loona (who only shrugged her shoulders) and Blitzø who looked like he was about to scream. “Uh…” 

The Radio Demon turned his head to face the smaller imp. His eyes narrowed in on the book and before another word could be exchanged, Chesterfield shot up from the floor and snatched the book away from Moxxie. Chester brought the book dutifully to his master. Alastor nodded at his shadow and cradled the book in one arm opposite his microphone.

“Ah yes, now the files on the Magne case, if you would be so kind.” Alastor grinned down at the little imp. 

“U-uh,” Moxxie began, clearing his throat. His eyes shifted between the book, Alastor, and the shadow that had once again returned into a regular one in a fraction of a second. That… book was really important to them, and he stared at it, pointing at it with his claw. “S-sir, we don’t have any files on the Magne family, because they weren’t our case.” He side-eyed Blitzø, and swallowed nervously. 

His tail flickered behind him, the pointed tip curling slightly. “Even if we did, we can’t… give it to you. It’s confidential. Company standards.” 

“My, my, how fascinating, none of that is information I have asked for.” Alastor bent at the waist, easily entering the personal bubble of the smaller imp. “Now then, you know what I want. If I don’t get it, I’ll happily destroy everything in this building, including the evidence. How awful it would be for your…” he gazed around at the empty waiting room. “Thriving business to start all over again. But! I have been so lacking in my arson lately, and it is a habit I have sorely missed, in fact,” He summoned a ball of fire into his palm and tossed it onto the dry wall. 

They all watched in awe and horror as the entire wall caught fire. The fire remained controlled to that area though, as Alastor held out his palm. “So, about those files? You were about to fetch them I believe.”

Moxxie looked at his boss, questioning. 

“Fucking, Moxxie! Just go get them before the place is entirely fucked over, this place cost too much and I have invested more than I wanted, I am not about to lose it!” Blitzø exclaimed.

“But Sir!-” It was confidential!

“Moxxie! Do you wanna die!? This asshole isn’t playing games!” He saw that  _ now _ .

“We’re already dead, sir!” 

“But I mean die for real, go to the big empty! Get the files for the little human bitch!”

Moxxie hesitated, before he turned around and exited the room just as the smell of scorching plaster filled the air and black smoke started to slowly fill the vicinity.

Alastor let out a happy sigh. It really had been far too long since he had threatened others into doing his bidding, it did his broken heart good. 

Moxxie returned a minute later, a folder in his hand. He hesitated though before he gave the folder to Alastor. If word got out that they had shared confidential information without permission, then the building would burn down figuratively. But it was already burning down literally. He swallowed, before he hurried forward and offered the folder to him.

Alastor snatched it away from the small imp and the fire immediately doused itself, the drywall looking completely unharmed. He opened it up to thumb through the pages, but what he needed was an address, all he found were doodles. “You call doodling all over lined paper… a filing system?” The deadpan smile he gave the small imp was dangerous. 

You see, Moxxie had been pushed around consistently by his boss. And he had an option to either rat him out or defend him. He settled for both, because Blitzø, as much as he hated to admit it, was also his… acquaintance. “Actually,” he held up a finger, “there wasn’t any information to begin with. There is nothing but doodles because she couldn’t remember anything. 

“Then where did you find that piece of slime? I need a location.”

“Aimless wandering. Lucky guess?” Moxxie twiddled his thumbs.

“ _ WHERE? _ ” He tossed the file into Moxxie’s face and phased right in front of the little imp, his chest heaving and his antlers starting to spiral outwards. His hand was immediately around his small neck and while there wasn’t much to squeeze, he squeezed nonetheless, taking note of how he could feel his pulse speed and then slow as he rose the little demon off the ground. 

Loona had stood up then. “I have to do everything in this fucking place,” she growled, completely unphased over the temper tantrum that Moxxie was facing. Blitzø and Moxxie (to the best of his ability) looked to her in surprise as she sorted through a bin of messy files, and finally took one out that had her name lazily scribbled onto it with lots of numbers and other information. Probably an address. 

She didn’t really care all that much to look at it for more than a glance. She lazily turned it into a paper airplane and threw it at Alastor. 

Alastor threw Moxxie like a dart into the drywall, causing him to stick to the wall by his horns. He easily caught the plane that was glided over to him. He unfolded it to read over the information. An address, two actually. There was a zipcode and everything, absolutely perfect! “Well, I’ve gotten all I’ve come for. I might return your book, might not, it seems except for your  _ charming _ little hound, the customer service is lacking,” he tutted and shook his head playfully at Blitzø while he tucked the paper into the pocket inside his suit jacket. 

“Well it’s a good thing we don’t have a fuckin’ review page.” Blitzø crossed his arms. “That got taken down for copyright infringement or whatever the fuck that means.”

Alastor grinned. “Too bad  _ I _ am the proud owner of a mouth. Now then, any other comments you'd like to make to convince me to not return your stolen property?”

But of course, Blitzø was dirty minded and he had the mouth of a sailor. “How about you put that mouth to good use then, huh?” 

Moxxie choked out a ‘Sir!’, even though he was still wedged into the wall. 

Alastor let out a chuckle and stepped closer to Blitzø, leaning down to whisper into the place his ear would have been. He trailed his lips tenderly across the spot. “What a lovely idea,” and then proceeded to sink his teeth deep into the demon. His sharp fangs severed through skin and muscle easily, and his eyes slitted as the squelch of blood splashed onto his face from the initial bite. Alastor grinned madly as he pulled away with a hearty string of ‘ha’s’, chewing thrice before swallowing.

He wiped the blood off of his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “I needed a bite to keep me going, what a wonderful suggestion!”

Everyone went silent for a long moment. 

That was until of course, Blitzø started screaming. 

Luckily though, Alastor decided to take his leave then. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” He bowed before he transported himself back to his home. Dealing with other demons could be such fun. Who knew he had missed it so? 

Wasting no time, he made his way to the back of his home, where he kept all of his supplies to perform difficult spells. He sat himself at his oak desk and started flipping through the book. Turns out those imps were good for something after all, as they had dog-eared the page with the portal he needed. 

He smoothed out the little crease. It was such a crime to treat books like that. It didn’t seem too complicated. There were candles, white paint mixed with the ash of an enemy, blood of a lamb, all of which he already had on stock. He tapped his finger delicately against his own desk and looked over the diagram he needed to draw and the chant needed to open the portal to his desired location.

He pulled the paper from his inside breast pocket and unfolded it. When one was going to do such magic, it was essential to practice and study the necessary symbols. He pulled open a drawer and started out with the basic circled pentagram, and quickly familiarized himself with the mixture of celtic and pagan runes. He had been studying magic since he had been a human, and was always an attentive student when the subject matter fascinated him, so this was a happy distraction. 

With three practice diagrams, he felt properly prepared for starting on a real one to summon the portal.

But before any of that could happen, it was time to put on some old clothes, in a manner of speaking.

It had been a long time since he last had a need to visit the surface, or disguise his demon self while doing so. He rose from his seat and summoned the mirror from his room to settle it in the corner of his study. The snappity thing. The phrase brought a sad smile to his face. Even now, she brought a smile to his face. 

He eyed his hair, such vibrant colors, and his ears… These transformations were always a bit painful. Anytime changing one’s bones was required, it was pretty standard for pain to follow. Though right now, he was welcoming the thought of just how much pain this would cause him.

He started lowly chanting. Without diverting his gaze, he watched his spine crack and shrink, his legs seemed to break, tendons loosening before snapping into sudden tightness. It was similar to breaking every single bone in his body, having his demon ears ripped off, and his back stabbed, all rolled into one glorious transformation. 

He had seen many cry during such a transformation, and understandably so. The raging burn that coursed over one’s skin while doing so was more than uncomfortable. It was pure torture. Agonizing. At the moment though, his insides were far much more twisted and knotted, and that had nothing to do with the transformation he had just undergone. 

His heart was broken. 

Even in his human form, his teeth white and straightened, smile more reserved, hair still thick but short, he still felt the wound she had given him. 

He still felt… empty.

He shook his head and snapped his fingers once more, a police uniform donning his still very lithe body. Perhaps this time he would forgo glasses. He was going in disguise after all, was he not? Afterall, there was no one there to stop him. 

He nodded at his reflection, yes. This would do nicely. 

Now all that was truly required was painting the floor. He started out by mixing the ashes into a small can of white paint with some lamb’s blood dotted into the mixture. He had often wondered in his past why it always required such contrasting ingredients. Though, through his studies he realized it was simply so because pulling from light magic and dark magic typically yielded a better result. Dark magic often was able to get out of hand while light magic was not powerful enough. 

Magic was something he had spent the entirety of his life studying, alive and dead. His knowledge and interest was sparked by the voodoo queens of his home and had only grown with age. He first learned how to harness powers from the earth that surrounded him before eventually turning to harness the greater powers that lie beyond mortal bonds. Light magic stemmed from more divine powers, while the dark stemmed from the opposite, the natural chaos and negative forces that worked its way onto the world. 

He had played with both and had found that to do true magic, one must pull from both sides. The results were always more successful when he had. 

It was a soothing task then, to just dip a paint brush into the paint and start on the diagram. Pure focus, no distraction. He had missed performing such magic. Visiting the voodoo doctors and the native people’s shamans that occasionally would visit through New Orleans had been one of his favorite pastimes. 

Due to his love of learning about such topics, oftentimes they would share more than they would to the tourists and peasants that typically approached them asking for favors or medicinal cures. Sometimes he found himself missing the surface more than he originally thought he would.

Those witch doctors truly had such interesting conversations. They had reserved passing judgement on the strange questions he would ask because he would always bring them food from his mother’s restaurant. All he needed in exchange was a few tidbits of knowledge, or to borrow a certain book. Occasionally when he found something in their native language, they would even translate it for him. 

He supposed that those people had been his friends.

It was a strange conclusion to come to after all this time, but alas, isn’t that just the way things happen? Life and the like were always so... entertaining. 

He had gotten the base of the circle down, with the pentagram inside. Now was time to draw the runes in their proper places. Every time he had been back to the surface it had been different, he was positive this time it wouldn’t be the same. Technology had a way of evolving so quickly when one wasn't paying attention to it. That was one of the main reasons Vox had caught him so off guard to begin with. 

He was such a strange looking demon. 

Even to Alastor who had seen so many different forms. Vox was quite literally, a square. And blue. Vox was a vivid blue square. It was all utterly ridiculous. Him and his mind control, which was more like lukewarm brainwashing, so cliche and overused! Vox’s design was rather foolish to him. Though to be fair, he supposed maybe to others he was as well. But at least Alastor himself wasn’t so... square. 

Alastor shook his head and focused on what his hands were doing. The subtle lines and flicks of his wrist if done incorrectly would ruin the portal, and he needed this to go well. His focus from that moment on was unwaverable. 

Each rune was carefully and slowly painted onto the floor. White marks of old that instructed the magic where to go and where to stay. It truly was a fascinating process. And dare he say, magical? He chuckled lightly to himself. Magic was something he was always happy to use to calm his mind, and now even his emotions, he supposed. 

With a few more runes, and dips into the paint mixture, he was done. He ripped off one of the addresses on the paper the hellhound had given him and placed it in the center of the pentagram. 

He always almost forgot to light the candles. The guiding light couldn’t be forgotten in one of these rituals though. He placed five candles down, one at each point of the pentagram. He snapped his fingers to light them and then placed himself in the center of the circle with the paper. He pat his pockets to make sure he still had the rest of the paper with him and quickly transformed his microphone into a cane. 

This way he wouldn’t have to carry all of his supplies with him. Besides, male fashion had not yet become so evolved. 

He stated clearly, “Ut me ad opus est ut.” 

Right in front of his mirror, a large circle opened up before him. When he stepped through, it closed behind him. 

That was a much milder form of travel than he was used to, perhaps she did have a point. 

He tapped his cane on the sidewalk of a suburb. The air was so much cleaner here, a bit crowded for his tastes, but still pleasant. He turned his sights to the sky, where he was greeted with the overwhelming shade of blue.

The exact opposite of Hell.

Perhaps this was another reason he missed the surface. The seasons were so much milder up here, and then there was the sun. That beautiful bright star. He hummed to himself as he eyed the house in front of him.

There were two cars in the driveway, one of which had a sticker with her name on it, above her name read, “in memoriam.” He figured this was the place. He walked slowly up her driveway to knock on her door. Or what was once her door.

There was silence for a long, drawn out moment. There was an overwhelming sense of sadness that lurked around the house; the garden that had once been in full bloom, had now wilted and died. When the door creaked open, a woman in a black robe was revealed, her eyes puffy and, in her free hand, a tissue. Her hair, once vibrant in its color, had strands of grey; simply from the stress that her daughter’s death had caused. 

“Officer,” she greeted with a sniffle. Her eyes did a once-over on him; and she did not suspect any foul play, for he was clad in a very convincing uniform. “You must excuse me, I am…” she opened the door further before stepping aside. “In a state.” She looked down to the tissue in hand before crossing her arms. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I am aware you’ve probably been told this many times, but once again, I am terribly sorry about your loss. But I may have some news that hopefully brings you some peace of mind.” He told her softly. Her mother was lovely, and it made his heart go out to her. He was sure there was nothing quite like losing a child. Especially in the mysterious way she lost hers. He entered upon her invitation, stepping around her carefully. 

She nodded absentmindedly. “I’m quite surprised you came out,” She did not seem herself; too lost in her own grief that she couldn’t really do much else. Sadly, she continued on. “Everyone seems eager enough to move on.”

In any case, she didn’t really… care who she let in the house, because her one true happiness was gone, and who was she without her only child? She had a thousand reasons to believe that this was not a fraud, for she doubted someone would go all the way to offer false information. 

But then again, with all the posters she had put up, and all the phone calls that lead to dead ends…

She also didn’t think anyone would have murdered her daughter, and no, she wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but that was what they were trying to figure out. All she knew was that her baby had a funeral without a body; and she had done all she could to assure she had a peaceful rest. 

“Would you like something to drink?” She offered weakly, leading the officer to the couch. 

“I’m alright, but I appreciate the offer,” he nodded, motioning towards said couch. “Would you like to sit down? It’s a bit strange, the information I have to share, and I wouldn’t want you to fall. Is your husband here? I imagine this will be something he would be interested in hearing as well.” He knew what he was going to tell her would be… overwhelming and he wanted to mitigate the situation as much as he could. 

She slowly sat down across from him, resting her hands on her lap. “You’re the first one to get information that… led anywhere, I suspect. And so quick too! Hopefully it leads somewhere this time, but I’ll tell him after he gets off work. A friend drove him today, so I’m not sure when he’ll be back.” she laughed softly, although it was still twinged with sadness. 

Alastor nodded curtly before delivering his news. “I was researching your daughter’s case on my own, outside of the standard protocols. So what I’m bringing you might not line up with any information other officer’s tell you, if they even get back to you, do you understand what I’m saying?” He eyed her carefully, hoping she was smart enough to pick up on the verbal cues he was giving her. 

Normally, she wouldn’t have approved something like this, but she was desperate. Desperation caused her to take out the oddities of the fact that he was doing this out of protocol, and instead find out anything she could about her daughter. This time, she hoped, it wouldn’t be another dead end. 

“Yes, you have my word.” She sat forward a bit.

“I found your daughter’s murderer. It was her friend, Kyle.”

She gasped softly, bringing her hand to her mouth.

“His father has been running a gang operation and your daughter saw Kyle kill someone. Because she saw him, his father ordered her to be taken out. She was murdered with a rock, drugged, and then flung into the ocean so the sharks would take care of her body. I am very sorry about the blunt way I told you this, but just know, they are both going to be dealt with outside of protocol as well.” He paused. ”I will avenge your daughter ma’am.” 

She stared at him for a long moment. “Kyle?” She whispered shakily, tears forming in her eyes. “Kyle killed my daughter? But… They've always been best friends ever since they were both children! I hadn’t known…” she looked off to the side, biting her nail. She went silent, lost in thought, before she inhaled deeply and released a shaky breath. 

“It doesn’t make sense.” She murmured beneath her breath. But she supposed nothing would ever make sense for a murderer. Wicked, vile scum. “Have you arrested him?” She turned to face him. “Oh, and, I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Not  _ exactly _ … I’m not allowed to share that information with you, but believe me, I have taken care of him and his father is soon to follow. I go by Alastor, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He held out his hand for her.

Her face twisted up, before she leaned over and grasped his hand in hers. She offered a shake, before leaning back. “Well, Officer Alastor, if you cannot share with me that information, please promise me something.” A mother’s fury was not easily doused.

“Anything.” He leaned forward.

“I want the worst sentence for them both.” Her eyes darkened. She wanted revenge. They took her daughter. Her only daughter. The only child that she would ever have; and silenced her for the rest of time. 

“I can assure, the punishment they recieve will be more than fitting for the crime they have committed against you and your family. I promise you.” He settled his hand on her knee, not breaking eye contact. “I will make sure of it.” He then leaned back, keeping eye contact with her. 

“You have been more than helpful.” She sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. “How can I repay you, Officer?”

“Nonsense, I did this as a favor to a friend of mine. That and I was affected personally by your daughter’s case. Just make sure you don’t tell any other officers about what I’ve shared. They don’t typically approve of going rogue, but I simply couldn’t help myself.” He offered her a small smile. “No repayment necessary.” He finished. 

“You are kind, thank you.” And then she stood. “You have my word. Anything for my daughter— but please,” she said softly, lowering her voice, “be careful. I don’t believe what you’re doing is… legal. I wouldn’t want you to lose your job over getting my daughter the justice she deserves.”

Alastor rose with her and let out a laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m not. Just know, I’ve taken care of this, and will continue to.” He smiled at her gently. “Please take care of yourself ma’am. I know your daughter misses you, but just know, she’s in a better place now.” He felt the sarcasm flow through him, but… he knew she would rather be in Hell than in Heaven. And that was enough to convince him that what he was telling her mother was true. 

“Thank you again.” She smiled weakly. “I’ll do my best.” 

Alastor nodded at her. “I’ll see myself out, Ma’am. But before I go… may I visit your daughter’s room? I just want to see more of the person I’ve been researching. I understand if it’s out of line.” He held his hands behind his back.

“Her room?” She questioned aloud, and she opened her mouth and then closed it— just like  _ she _ did when she was speechless. Like mother , like daughter. “Sure.” She offered lightly. “But I would like to stay with you when you’re in there, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I would never be so presumptuous. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of us in your space, and I’ll be out of your hair soon after. Thank you.” 

She nodded once before she turned around and went up the stairs. “This way.” She led him up the stairway and down a small hallway. At the end of it, was a door where there was sunlight creeping through the bottom. She stopped just before the closed door; it was a white door, with nothing on it. 

But she couldn’t open it. She looked to Alastor after a moment. “Please,” she motioned towards it. She hadn’t stepped foot in there since.

He nodded in understanding and got in front of her to open the door. When he did, he was immediately overcome with the smell of…  _ her. _ There were a few trinkets, a mirror, a bed, and a few dressers. Fairy lights that had since run out of battery hung from the ceiling. There were, on one desk that was at the corner of the room, a multitude of different collectibles of ancient artifacts. 

She liked the past. 

It was so her, and it was a shame she wouldn’t be able to remember it. He smiled at the relics of her own personal history. He eyed her bed while her mother had a moment. 

“Ever since she was a little girl, she liked things that were a little different than most girls her age. Instead of doll houses, she liked dinosaur toys. I suppose that’s why she got along better with Kyle than anyone else. They were two peas in a pod.” Her mother reminisced quietly. 

Quickly while she was distracted he swiped his cane over one of her blankets, making it disappear into his microphone. 

“There used to be more,” she said softly, running her hand across the trinkets absentmindedly. “The officers took a few to see if there was any evidence on them. I suppose you wouldn’t be able to get those back for me, would you?” She smiled, a bit hopelessly, before turning around.

“I will do my best.” He offered, turning to her. “Thank you for opening up her room to me. I’m sure this is painful for you. I can leave now.” He stepped closer to her mother, eyeing her face so closely. It was always entertaining to him to see family resemblance, and her mother was lovely, just as she was. “Thank you for your time today.” 

“Thank you for the answers.” She half-smiled, the fine lines of stress seemed to appear a little less bold; her eyes crinkling slightly as her hands folded before her. But before she could bring herself to see him out, she felt herself at a loss of how exactly to willingly leave her daughter’s space. It felt like years since she had felt the inkling of peace. 

Alastor noticed.

“I can see myself out if you’d like. If you’re finding some peace in this room, I’d hate to take you away from it.”

She turned to look over her shoulder then at him, before nodding silently. “Goodbye, Officer.” 

“Goodbye, Ma’am.” In his head, he promised her that eventually, he would tell her daughter hello from her, hopefully. He nodded and left the room. He took note of some of the photos of her and her parents on the walls as he descended the stairs, of some of the worn furniture and the films she had… This had been her home. It truly was a shame her life had been taken from her.

But even in his anger and in his hurt, he couldn’t help but still be a bit thankful he had met her. She had shown him parts of himself he had forgotten about, and for that he would forever be grateful for the time he had been able to share with her, however short it may have been.

He exited her front door and walked a few blocks away before he removed from his pocket the second address.

It was time to pay Kyle's father a little visit. 

If he was reading this correctly, it meant Kyle lived only a few blocks away from here. Alastor shook his head. She had been murdered by her childhood friend and neighbor. It truly was a disgusting crime to betray such loyalties. No true father would ask such a hideous thing of their child. 

Alastor replaced the paper that had been used and abused at this point. It was crumpled and creased. Reliable though, to say the least. He patted his pocket, assuring himself that it was still there and started walking down her street.

Things had definitely changed since he had last been up on the surface. The sidewalks were smoother, and the road was black. If he was correct in assuming, it was some sort of tar. He could see many people through the windows focusing on those foolish television screens. He shook his head. It was a shame how easily distractions took hold of people, but then again, it had been so easy for him to focus all of his attention on her. 

Though that had been so very different in his own mind. She was much more fascinating than some picture show; she was impulsive, thoughtful, kind, much more than anything a simple program on a screen could offer him. 

He found that it was far too easy to lose himself in these thoughts of her, even while he was up on the surface for the first time in a few decades. It didn’t seem to matter what his surroundings were, his thoughts would always turn back to her, which is why he needed to finish this. 

He pulled that sheet of paper back out of his pocket and rubbed the corner of the paper between his thumb and forefinger. He reread the address and looked across the street at the house that held the same numbers on the mailbox. 

A sick grin spread over his face. 

This was something he could be happy about. He strode proudly up the driveway and knocked three times on the door. 

As soon as the door opened, he barged his way in, shoving his shoulder through the crack in the door. 

“What the fuck!? Who the fuck are you? Get the fuck out of my house!” Kyle’s father was a tall man, but not taller than Alastor. He looked down at him with a smug look etched on his face.

“No, you see I’m here on business for a friend, and I have news about your son.” The man stopped, suddenly, his body freezing upon hearing those words. 

“You’re here about Kyle.” He hadn’t heard from his boy in about two days, no text, note, smoke signal, nothing. He knew he was having a hard time adjusting after taking out his own closest friend. He had been hoping that he wasn’t too attached to her, he had taught Kyle better than that. 

“Mmm, yes, you see I ran into him and he seems to be struggling an awful lot after you had him murder his best friend.” Alastor couldn’t help the grin that was on his face. His eyes were narrowed as he looked at this disgusting human. 

Kyle’s father’s eyes widened before he let out a grunt. “I’ll have to speak to a lawyer before I talk to you, asshole.” He spat out. 

Alastor let out a posh laugh, leaning his head back.

“Oh, no no, you misunderstand! I’m not here on duty, I’m here to make a deal. Do you want to see your son again?” Alastor took a step closer to him, his arms folded behind his back as he sized up this garbage. 

The man was shorter than him, a bit more stout in comparison. While Alastor was built with lithe corded muscle, this man was bulky, obviously trying to make up for his smaller stature. His eyes glanced around the abode, noting how richly decorated everything was. No doubt the money that had paid for such things had come at the cost of other’s lives and shady dealings. 

“What are you talking about?” None of this made sense. Most cops weren’t so upfront about how crooked they were. It was typical of them to hide it until they really built up some trust.

“Thick headed aren’t you? It’s a simple question really, do you want to see your son?” He clicked his heels together as he faced this poor excuse of a man. He hated him on principle. Alastor typically wasn’t one to waste such energy on emotional labels but this man had sent out the orders that snuffed out  _ her _ life. 

“Of course I do.” What kind of stupid was this cop? Of course he wanted his boy back! 

That was all he needed to hear. Alastor clapped his hands together, summoning his ’cane’ in the process. 

The man’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at the newly appeared item. He stepped back in caution. Something wasn’t right- this guy wasn’t right. 

“Excellent.” He tapped his cane on the floor once, opening a dark void, bringing the entrance onto the mortal plane. The hole was dark, inky blackness that seemed to swallow the space entirely as if it were a black hole. Alastor watched with joy in his eyes as he tapped the cane again, allowing the portal to pull Kyle’s father into the endless depths of his microphone. It was a funnel of sorts, and during the process, the father began to beg.

“Wait, Wait! What’s happening!? What are you doing to me, you son of a bitch!? This isn’t my fault! Whatever you know about us, it was Kyle’s fault! No, please!” And then he was gone.

Alastor chuckled to himself. What a horrid father.

“I do so love it when families reunite.” He wiped a false tear out of his eye. He then tapped his finger on the handle of his cane and watched as his precious microphone was turned back to normal as the portal closed with a ‘swish’. 

“I’ll be needing the paint and the book again, if you wouldn’t mind.” Alastor unbuttoned the first few buttons on the uniform. If he was to work, he was going to get comfortable. 

“Here ya go, boss man.” The paint and the book fell out of the microphone with a flurry of green microdust.

“We’ve had quite the day, haven’t we?” Alastor rolled up his sleeves and started kicking some of the area rugs out his way. Normally he would have been more caring with such items, but he hated this home. It was a mausoleum to her death in his mind. “And to think we aren’t even done yet.” He settled onto his knees and started painting the proper base onto the hardwood.

“You planning on hopping in later, to show ‘em a thing or two?” The microphone asked. Alastor hummed with amusement. 

“Of course, I have to greet our new guest and show them how things are done, don’t I? We have rules here, Mr. Mike. I can’t just have guests running around willy nilly.” Painting sigils like these got easier and easier the more one did them, so this time was more from muscle memory. He had always had a knack for these things. Summoning the book was more to double check his work than anything. 

“I guess… You wanna hear ‘em scream bossman?” 

“You always look out for me. Of course, but keep it low, we wouldn’t want to have any actual policemen coming here, heaven forbid, then we might have Christians arriving! Which is absolutely the last thing we need in this house.” Alastor dipped his finger tip back into the paint. 

Mr. Mike opened up a line into the void room. The screams and cries from both Kyle and his father were softly playing out of the microphone. Alastor hummed happily as he finished up the final rune. Such a lovely tune.

“Candles?” Alastor stood and watched with a pleased air as the candles placed themselves at the points of the pentagram. He snapped his fingers to light them. “Do we have anything from the house in there, Mr. Mike?” He bent over to pick up the book, flipping it to the proper page. 

“Uhh, we got a couple scales from George?”

Alastor nodded to himself. “Of course, we saved his first shedded scales didn’t we. They do grow up so fast.”

“Sure do, bossman.” 

“That’ll do just fine.” Alastor held out his hand. The scales materialized in his palm with a few yellow flashes. He tossed them into the center of the pentagram. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah, let’s get outta here, this place is givin’ me the willies.” Alastor nodded, scooping up his microphone in the crook of his arm. He narrowed his eyes at the paint. He kicked it over, splashing it onto the opposite wall. A satisfied grin spread over his lips. While he thought on it, he also went ahead and tossed out a ball of fire onto that same wall, watching with glee as it bloomed into a ravenous fire. Very good. 

He had the book in his other arm and he took one last look at the circle. He released a heavy exhale, and said clearly, “Ut me ad opus est ut.”

The portal opened up before him and he stepped through. His shoe sunk into some wet swamp land and he smiled at George and Georgina. George snapped his jaws at him in greeting, his many eyes focusing on him. “Hello, little dears.” George walked over on his short legs and settled his large head on Alastors shin. A guttural hiss escaped the gators throat. 

“Even in this form you recognize me. What good gators you are!” Georgina followed after her mate. Alastor bent over to rub the tops of their heads respectively. Their scales were rough, and always surprisingly hard. Alastor let out a huff of laughter as a sound resembling a purr rumbled out of George’s chest. 

“Now now, I have to attend some business. You two will be good, won’t you?” He wagged his finger at both of his beloved gators. He rolled his shoulders and started to shed his glamour. Transforming back into his own skin was painful, but it wasn’t something he wasn’t used to. His bones broke and grew longer instantly. His skin turned grey and his eyes grew wider. His joints cracked and his back popped as several extra vertebrae returned. 

He let out a sigh as he was finally back in clothes that were familiar to him. 

“Chester, do take this back to the imps.” His shadow rose from the ground and happily took the book from his offered hand, disappearing from sight quickly before returning after only a few short moments. He ran a hand through his familiar thick tresses and tapped his microphone on the floor. He felt his body squeeze through a dimensional side wall before returning out on one side, darkness greeted his vision. The sudden silence amused him. He clapped his hands, granting a small light for him and his victims. 

Kyle was looking rather rough these days.

His hair had turned stark white, and his skin had turned sallow. His cheeks were gaunt and his little nubby arms always shook. It was nothing less than what he deserved. Alastor took slow, menacing steps forward. But this time, his steps were towards Kyle’s father. The two were huddled together and it looked as if they had been crying, how sentimental. 

“Hello, I’m so happy to have you both here, together again! How does it feel!?” He unraveled his arms from around his back and pointed his microphone at the father, as if he were inquiring about how it felt to win the lottery. His eyes were pinched at the corners with maliced amusement. 

“Who are you? What are you going to do to  _ me? _ ” Alastor took pride in how his father’s voice shook.

He didn’t even question what his son had gone through. It was simply about himself. 

“My name is Alastor, good sir. I’m here to torture you for the rest of eternity. Now then, to business shall we?” He was about to rip into Kyle’s father when, “What’s your name before we begin?” His claws were poised at his neck and Kyle was already crying.

“Da-Damon.” Alastor hummed.

“Damon!” He repeated in an exclaim, a wistful hum escaping him, before shoving his claws into the side of Damon’s neck. A wet gurgle met his ears and Alastor sighed out blissfully. It had been far too long. Hot red blood flowed over his hand and he felt so relaxed. He ripped his claws forward, tearing through tendons and muscle like butter. 

He brought his hand to his face and licked his fingers as Kyle started sobbing loudly while his father choked out a weak ‘no’.

Immediately the wound he had just inflicted was healed. As he admired his still bloody hand, he eyed Damon from his peripherals. 

“As you can see, I can do whatever I want to you, and you will still be around later for me to do more. I’ve been going through some hard times the past few days so be prepared to see a lot of me.” He turned fully to Damon. 

“And be prepared for _me_ to see a lot of _you_.” His smile turned demonic, his pupils turning to radio dials as static flurried around him. He sunk his teeth into Damon’s arm, ripping out a large piece of his bicep. He felt the wet squish as he ripped through skin, tendons, and muscle; the minimal resistance as he pulled the meat away from the bone was truly delicious. Damon’s screaming was like a sweet melody as it caressed his ears. He swallowed the chunk with a hearty laugh.

“Like father like son, how entertaining!”

He spent hours introducing Damon to the way things were done. With every scream and bite he took out of the pair, he felt his stress melt away. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel like using mental tactics like he had with Kyle. He wanted the physical aspect of it all, the mess, the blood, the pain. 

Though when he snapped himself clean and left them there, he didn’t feel that much better. Perhaps it was because he was reminded by his own empty bed, that she wouldn’t be coming in or visiting him any time soon. 

There had been a certain fullness he had come accustomed to when he would come to bed with her. Now in place of such caring and fullness there was now only a bleak hollow space. His bed was simply that, his. He found no joy or solace in that any longer because deep down he desperately craved it to be his  _ and _ hers. 

No matter how much he tormented Damon and his son, it would never replace the raw unbridled joy he felt when he was with her.

Nothing could replace her. There was absolutely nothing in the breadth of the universe that would ever be able to fill the space she had taken in his life. Now more than ever, he felt painfully alone. Maybe if he went to sleep, in a few decades he would be able to wake up and forget her. He didn’t have to have anything planned. George and Georgina were able to take care of themselves. His victims would keep being tortured in their own solitude. 

He crawled slowly into the center of his bed under his blankets and sprawled out across it. Sleep sounded so good. If he needed to sleep for a few decades, that was fine. There wouldn’t be anyone to wake him anyway. 

So he would sleep. He only hoped he wouldn’t be plagued by dreams of her.

And truthfully, he didn’t care if he woke up.


	54. To Take A Gamble

You had fooled yourself into thinking this would all be alright. That this ache in your chest would fade and, at the end of the day, things would go back to normal. That all of these moments that stretched out for hours on end would eventually come to a conclusion, and the answers that you desired would reveal themselves to you. But they didn’t. Instead, you were left with the same constant ebbing and flowing of thoughts, concerns, and regrets as you always had. 

Nothing new. 

The sharp ‘_ tick’ _ of the rhythmic clock did well to ensure you that you were still in the present and while you were wasting away in your room, the world continued on. It still spun on its axis, you were still in Hell, everything you had ever gone through had indeed happened and you were still in the aftermath of the worst disaster you had ever experienced. 

There were few fundamental truths that you had been willing to humor in the time you had spent down here, running from responsibilities and holding onto the hope that this entire… circle of society would change to better suit your morals. 

That it would be normal and dare you say it, a pleasant experience. 

What a joke. 

This was a land filled with the most grotesque of entities, and your lip curled at the thought of the crimes they committed to get themselves in a place like _ this. _Where no comfort was found in the naivety of youth, there were no fairytales or heroes to save the day, where everyone didn’t give a shit as to whether or not they got hurt, because they had given up. They were all at the point of no return, and there sure as hell wasn’t a reason to be better than they were. 

They had lived, died, lost all purpose, ran in circles and never stayed in line, and in some odd moment of clarity that was so rarely offered to you, you realized that there was a possibility that you weren’t so different after all. 

You had tried to convince yourself from the beginning that this had been some sort of hallucinatory shit show that your mind had made up as the nerves died in your brain. It was a lot easier to believe that than coming to terms with the fact that you were, in fact, dead and landed yourself a prime spot in Hell. You had been punished on the behalf of miniscule choices that had no true consequence on others, and had only left a smudge of a stain on your soul. 

You had exhausted yourself from the onslaught of tears that had lived upon your cheeks and died upon your lips. But what was it that caused you to sob? To pray for an uncaring God in hopes that He would alleviate you from your pain? You needed time to figure out yourself, and now you had it, and all you could do in that moment was hope for a more peaceful solution that you knew you would never, _ ever, _receive. There was no savior coming for you, there was no one to come to rescue you from your greatest enemy. 

Because how could they, when _ you _ were your greatest enemy?

You were practically dancing with your own ghost, a fragment of a person you had once been, someone who desperately wanted to find her peace in the moment. You had never quite let go of your past, despite not knowing even the tiniest of details. You were lost in the hope that you would learn when the time came, but you were past that. Some part of you, deep inside, knew that you would never learn of the adventures you had gone on, the friends you had made, the music you had listened to, the hobbies you enjoyed, or even how much your death had affected others. 

You had your time to think, and you would do well to take advantage of it. There wasn’t anything _ left _to do other than wallow in your own pain— but why was it painful? This was what you had desired, but at the same time, it was the last thing you had wanted. Surrounded by others who cared about you, by those who shared their lessons and the experiences they had in order to help you forge your own person. You had been greeted with a semblance of pity, and had gotten particularly lucky with how everything had played out.

Who would you be if Angel Dust hadn’t been there on that fateful day? How much deeper in your own mind would you be? How much more lost would you feel? Would you have learned more? Less? Would it be the same? How much different would you have turned out if you wandered off, or even _ remembered _your past? Would you have gotten this far? You had changed from a naive and impressionable individual into a foolish one. You weren’t idiotic as to not see that you had made a mistake.

You made a lot of mistakes, but none as massive as this— but really, how could you be blamed for your indecisiveness? Your anxieties? Were you expected to forget all of the things you had gone through, how all of this even started, and be all fine and dandy when you were traumatized? You knew you had gone through a horrible experience, you knew that those memories would never truly fade from your mind, and you certainly knew that those instances had made you into who you were. 

Without much of a history to go off of except for the rare instances of an old memory popping up, you built yourself off of the things that occurred. 

But how could you have known it would have ever come to this? 

Truth was, you couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have known that the Radio Demon that walked through those glass-stained doors not even a day after you had, would have changed your existence, for better or for worse. At first, it hadn’t seemed much more than a pique in curiosity for him, where he would watch from afar and treat you as he did with others. You still had to abide by his five foot rule then, unless of course, he initiated the touch originally. 

You remembered how nervous you had been around him, consistently and without fail. He carried an air around him that demanded attention at all times, and if it wasn’t, that string of laughter never ceased to draw eyes from all over. 

You couldn’t have known he would be the one to keep you up all night, or that he would be your wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a shark behind a thin barrier of glass, a mouth full of sharp teeth, threatening to puncture and drown you in his presence. You were always defensive towards yourself when he teased you, and even when he did, you hadn’t been sure if he had been serious or not. You were someone who could dish out more than you could take when cornered, and boy, did he take advantage of that quite a bit. 

But equally, you pushed your luck by fighting back when he pursued you. Despite the fact that you should have known better than to humor his hunt, you hadn’t. Not at that moment, at least, and thinking back you wondered if, _ because _ you were fighting back, _ because _you were giving him attention, he took that as consent to continue his chase of cat and mouse. It had been innocent enough at first, it didn’t span farther than how a school-boy would try to get his crush’s attention by doing idiotic things. 

Teasing that wouldn’t go away as long as you were in the same vicinity as him. But unlike school, you couldn’t take a sick-day when it got tough. You couldn’t say ‘fuck it’ and block his number and do your best to forget about him, because he would find a way to get to you every. Single. Time. But you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, join them. And from that point, you had sentenced yourself to life with the one person who had _ won. _

In many ways, Alastor had been victorious.

He wasn’t the type to lose, and he certainly wasn’t the type to let a victory go unannounced, either. He let you know that each and every day you had found yourself utterly graced (note the sarcasm) by his presence. His actions grew more rough, more possessive, if you will, and you had begun to give into him by fear alone. He was spurred on by your fear, he thrived in your anguish and uncertainty; he had wanted you to crumble to your knees before him and beg him to stop. 

But your victories hadn’t gone unnoticed either. By your constant torment, you had learned to better defend yourself. He had broken you as much as he could, but you had never been completely torn. You always had someone to help you through it, which was more than you could wish for in such a place as this. And any individual that was willing to go out of their way to alleviate your pain and stress, was good company indeed. One particular memory was when you had tried to get back at him by kicking the back of his shoes, and pulling on his hair after he had done the same to you. Because of that, he had slammed his head into a wall and created a large hole in it. 

That entire day was filled to the brim with you annoying him to the best of your ability, and god damn if that hadn’t been the most delicious slice of revenge you had ever experienced. Such moments were fleeting, though, and you recalled with explicit detail to the moment he had cornered you and had you believe that you would die once more from asphyxiation. It had been a moment of real terror, when you realized that his mercy was the only thing that would ever keep you alive in face of his wrath.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? You _ weren’t _alive. 

And yet, each day that you looked into the mirror, you fooled yourself into believing the lie that you led. There was a difference between looking humanoid and being unable to part from your sense of humanity, something that you still possessed somehow even when faced with the consequences and discord of your daily life. It was one of the few thoughts that you had never questioned. Why was it that you looked like your human self, so much so that you often got looks from passerbyers wondering how in the nine circles a human got into _ Hell. _

And why you looked so drastically different when you got emotional. You recalled that, only after learning of your past did you access that part of you. Your soul had manufactured a design out of the details you had learned, unsure of which species to settle with and instead combining two deep sea creatures that were known to feed on decaying flesh: A shark and an eel.

The only explanation you could come up with regarding your regular, most natural form, was that you didn’t have much to go off of when you had arrived in Hell, and so your soul had simply settled on the more physical and natural aspects of the world above. 

And that was, perhaps, one of the things that made you so unique. 

There was a vast spectrum of creatures and demons that lurked where no one dared to venture, and the majority of them held physicalities that were unable to be concocted by even the most imaginative of minds. Was that what had gotten Alastor so intrigued by you in the first place? He had said it was so in his own cryptic form of explanation. But surely it had to be something else too, right? If not, that meant that if you had recalled your memories originally and, your theory was indeed correct on how demons obtained their forms, then you discovering all of the hidden, grotesquely beautiful sides of Alastor, had all been merely a _coincidence. _It couldn’t have been that simple.

But what if it was? 

You had a habit of overthinking the things that didn’t need to be thought about, picking at pieces of a puzzle that were already perfectly placed. Why was it that you did that? Perhaps it was because you weren’t satisfied with the explanation, that you thought there would be more, you would be met with a sense of finality and conclusion. Looking back, the only conclusion you could make was that Alastor had carved you with masterful manipulation, even if it was subconscious through his actions, alone. 

You had been faced with fear, you had looked death in the face so many times, you had been made into a person who was paranoid that things would go back to the way they were. You lived in a place of terror. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust yourself or that you didn’t trust him, no, what you didn’t trust was the happiness that you had discovered alongside the one that had ripped it from you in the first place. 

You had been stripped bare of everything you had come to know of yourself. He knew every single detail about you, and he could do with the information as he pleased- with or without your consent. Alastor was an enigma, and you hadn’t known what you had been dealing with back then. He had shown you on every corner how dangerous he _ could _be, how he was a force of nature that couldn’t be deterred from an ultimate goal. He knew how to get what he wanted, and he did it seamlessly. He was a professional in the arts of macabre and manipulation, and while he had made that incredibly clear time and time again, you couldn’t help but have noticed the change that had occurred.

The change that you had been blind to. 

As much as you had seen those parts of him and how the void of darkness coated his entire personified ego, you also witnessed parts of him that you were pretty damn sure he had thought he had lost. It was a gamble on your existence when you had claimed such a thing as him being infatuated with you. He could have completely wiped you out if he damn well pleased, but in fact, if you could make a guess as to when he had changed, it had been then. Like the misty panels, that image of his shocked expression had been engraved in your mind. 

It was not something that could be easily forgotten.

But for some reason, you _ had. _ You had found yourself unable to move past the trauma of your past, so much so that, as others grew and changed in regards to situations that transpired around them, you stubbornly refused to. You were impulsive as a survival technique, it had worked then to get you out of situations that you did not wish to look back on, but now you… didn’t _ have _to survive, did you? 

You didn’t have to do stuff on a whim, or have your decisions be based on adrenaline alone anymore. Things had _ changed. _

Somehow in the midst of it all, the two of you had come to grow fond of each other’s presence. You couldn’t remember the exact moment that had caused _ you _to open your eyes, to see that his efforts were in an attempt to woo you, but you could bet a pretty penny that it happened around the point when he had made that utterly ridiculous ‘welcome home’ party. As silly and horrible as it had been, you had been forced to question yourself if his actions were truly… malicious or not.

You were no longer a mouse; he was no longer a cat. The game was over. You didn’t _ need _to be afraid anymore, nor quite as impulsive. You now had a handful of allies and friends to help you along, something that you hadn’t had when you had first wound up down here. That was what had changed. During your time, you had made relationships with others who were willing to be decent and help you. 

To help you find your footing, and most importantly, yourself.

But still, you held onto that impulsiveness with an iron fist and had engrained it into your persona. The events had transpired so quickly that you hadn’t had time to really come to terms with the fact that you weren’t endangered anymore. This man wasn’t going to butcher you in your sleep, or terrorize you anymore, for he had discovered the true meaning behind his actions. He wasn’t going to haunt your dreams or cause you anguish purposely. No, the only anguish you went through now, was because of your own choices.

And for the first time, you began to see yourself as the villain. 

It was true. There were no heroes with capes down in the fiery pits of Hell, at least none that would save you, and you weren’t trying to be one either. You didn’t really need saving, in the more physical manner, you just needed to take the advice that was given to you and beat it into that thick skull of yours. Easier said than done. You had learned so much, but had never applied it to your life, never given yourself the chance, and now was the time to. 

But how in the world, when you wanted nothing more than to lay upon your bed for the rest of time, were you going to manage _ that _? 

At the very least, you could begin to try to figure out how to move on from your past; to let go and see the red sky and pentagram in a new light. You also knew that it was impossible to change over night, but you needed to at least try. It wasn’t even for Alastor’s sake or yours anymore, it was for everyone else_ . _Because you knew that if you continued down this path of believing that you were in constant danger, from a source that was no longer out to get you, you would drag everyone else down with you. 

The people that cherished you. The people that loved you. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t wanted to change, it was that you hadn’t known how to. While everyone was moving forward, you felt you were moving backwards, and holding onto that thin wire exhausted you to no end. You needed to let go. You needed to move on. You needed to find yourself, figure out how you were going to be… _ better. _

You needed to take the first step. You needed to listen to the advice. You needed to stop waiting for things to work itself out and work them out for yourself. You needed to get up. 

Get up.

Get _ up. _

You blinked your eyes open, squinting at the harsh light that graced the vicinity of your room. 

The first emotion you were met with was the overbearing sense of confusion because first off: what the fuck. Second of all: what the _ fuck _ because you had distinctly remembered flopping onto your bed at _ night _, and if that blinding red light signified anything, it meant that it was day. Have you been thinking all night? How long had it been? You scrunched your eyebrows together before bringing a fist to rub at your eyes, unhinging the sleep that had accumulated in the corners. 

Some things, you concluded at last, would never change.

In a daze-like fashion, you rose up off of your bed and blinked blearily. Once, twice, third times the charm. In all honesty, you couldn’t really bring yourself to feel the desire to converse with the residents of the hotel, and you resented the idea of being pulled into the daily dramas that occurred within its walls. What you felt, what lurked deep within your chest, was raw and painful; like a rope burn that never ceased in rubbing away at your flesh. It was tight, uncomfortable, and had you feeling rather queasy.

It was petrifying, to not know when these emotions and thoughts would abate, if they ever would come to a halt, or you would be left to face the carousel of your thoughts alone. Nothing satisfied your mind, appeased this open wound in your heart, and you feared nothing ever would. 

At times it felt hard to breathe, like your lungs were being constricted by a rope; your heart felt heavy, and the pleasant expression that generally adorned your face was all for naught. The last thing you needed was to put up a mask and tell everyone, convince _ yourself _most importantly, that everything was fine. Because nothing was fine. For the first time, it truly felt like you were in a place where the damned and wicked souls rested, and despite being utterly exhausted of reacquainting with that fact time and time again, you knew that you eventually had to face it. 

This wasn’t some fever dream, this was reality, and your actions had consequences. You couldn’t hope to be pulled out of this pit of self-torture by anyone else, because the only one that really knew you_ , _the only one that could really get you through this, was yourself. There would always be pieces of stories that never added up to those you told them to, there would always be things that never completely made sense, as they hadn’t been there to experience it for themselves.

The only way for you to get through this, was to find yourself and solidify the idea of who you were, of your beliefs, of who you cared for and those you didn’t. You needed to figure out how to move on from the trauma of your past, and in doing so, just believe in yourself. People changed, you had witnessed it. It was a fact that was as true as it could be. But you hadn’t, and you desperately needed to. 

You were so sick and tired of _ thinking _. 

But to beat this ghost of your past, that was exactly what you had to do. 

The moment you entered the lobby, you paused in your step and looked down. You were dressed. You hadn’t even recalled doing so, or even so much as walk out the door of your room. Dissociation was something you rarely experienced, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. With a sigh, you moved forward once more and made your way down the stairs, your grip upon the bannister tight as if that were the only thing to keep you stable.

“You look like shit, kid.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you snapped your gaze over to the bar, your mind racing to come to some sort of decision on what to do in that moment where you had been caught off guard. It screamed to find something to protect yourself with, before you finally realized that it was only Husk. It was Husk. Husk was alright, you didn’t need to survive with Husk. For fucks sake, you didn’t even need to survive at all! It was _ Husk. _You weren’t in your past anymore, you were in the present, and you were faced with the first decision that could lead to the path of your growth.

You ignored your instincts.

“Thanks, you do too.” you quipped back immediately as you held his gaze for a moment longer. Defensive. You didn’t need to be so... defensive.

For one reason or another, the silence that was prolonged with the feline never did turn into an awkward one. In fact, just him holding your attention had you feel like you were being internally judged, like a parent would when they knew their child did a bad thing. And that you did. You did a very, very bad thing. But just as quickly, he lost interest and shrugged, swigging back his drink and losing himself in the alcoholic pleasantries of good ol’ Hell. 

You didn’t really feel like being judged by a drunk, anyways. 

A brisk breath escaped your nose as you turned your sights back onto more comfortable areas of the hotel, and once you settled your attention onto the sofa, you meandered your way over to it. Slumping onto it, you sprawled across, repositioned so your head rested upon the arm rest, and felt for the remote around you. At the very least, you didn’t have to search for very long. The moment you felt the coolness of the plastic, you pulled it from where it had been lazily crushed between two of the cushions, and pressed upon the red button. 

Finally. Distraction in the peace and quiet, and the warmth of your own home. You needed a sit-com to lift your spirits— _ something _to pry you away from the darkness of your own mind. You were in desperate need of a day where you weren’t haunted by it, or your past actions.

The television, however, seemed to have been wired to do just that, much to your absolute demise, because when it turned on, you were greeted with the 666 News discussing the announcement that had happened a few days ago. Such a news story was too juicy to not pass up, apparently, until they milked it all for it’s worth. 

“—Biggest bomb was dropped a few nights ago when Hell’s own head honcho’s daughter, Charlotte Magne, held a party for the Happy Hotel!” The voice was barely muffled by the mask.

“That’s right, Tom! We’ve even gotten word, along with proof, that the Radio Demon himself even made an announcement! Take a look!” 

What was shown next was the video of the announcement, the crowd of demons, the flashing lights, and in the center, you and Alastor. Everything in your mind told you to turn it off, but you were incapable of pressing the button to do so. When it ended, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench spun back around in their chairs and leaned forward. 

“Well, I’d say that that confirms the rumor that the Radio Demon has a new girlfriend.”

_ Not anymore _, you thought bitterly. And you were completely and utterly unamused. 

“Whether or not it’s _ real _is another story, and one we will definitely be following up on! Stay tuned after the break for more information regarding the—” 

You finally hit the button to change the channel, and were more than eager to indulge yourself in a classic comedy, and you probably would’ve had the chance if you were lucky, if a commercial didn’t start a minute in. 

“Do YOU need a new cleaning spray for YOUR monocle!? Well, come on down to Spritz—“

_ Really? _Your grip increased on the remote as you pressed on the button again.

“Welcome back you bunch of cannibal bastards! Today we’re cooking with thighs! One of the best parts to roast on any demon! If you need to satisfy your craving for humans, these demons will scratch your itch, and today is an even more special day, because we have a recipe from our very own Radio Demon that was submitted to us!” 

Your mouth parted slightly in disbelief, before you twisted your face up and hit the button one last time. You could feel your teeth grit upon each other. You were beginning to think that even the television was out to get you. No rest for the wicked, apparently. It was probably just a coincidence, surely the next one wouldn’t be so—

And then the television started glitching in a familiar way, before the screen turned to complete static. A radio broadcast hijacking the television’s frequencies. “Welcome back ladies and gentle-demons, remember to keep an ear out for any broadcasts! I’m feeling rather affected, so do be sure to turn those radios back on—”

You didn’t want to hear it, the sound of him, you didn’t want it to reenter your life so soon. You hissed out and threw the remote at the television, where it narrowly missed it by literal centimeters. It flopped to the ground, the batteries falling out of the back and tumbling onto the floor. 

“—to hear my very special broadcast, screams, torture, and so many familiar favorites! Stay tuned!”

And then, finally, the screen turned to an _ actual _ show, and you probably would have breathed a sigh of relief if you hadn’t been staring daggers at the screen. Your mood was already ruined. You sat up then, a frown twitching at your lips and your eyebrows furrowing as you headed towards the bar. “The television is out to get me.” You muttered, just loud enough for Husk to hear. Without invitation, you invited yourself to sit on the stool as he drank his life away.

You wondered if he had been watching the entire time or not, and just chose not to say anything. He probably didn’t care. Why should you care if he cared or not? You didn’t care. Yes you did. With a groan, you let your forehead rest on the coolness of the table with a small _ ‘thump’ _.

“I don’t care.”

Well, that answered your question. 

One of them, at least.

Without speaking further or even offering up a grunt of acknowledgement, Husk slid you a shot of clear alcohol. Whether it was gin, rum, vodka, you had no idea. But the small glass was slid close enough to barely graze your arm, just so you would know it was there. His eyes were elsewhere, trying not to focus on the ball of sadness you were folding into. 

He knew you needed something, and until you spoke up, he was going to assume what you needed was a fucking drink. 

“What is it?” You picked your head up and propped it on your palm. 

“Water.” He muttered, echoed into his own bottle. 

You reached out to it, grasped it in your hand, and downed it in one go. When the taste registered on your tongue, you sputtered and choked on it, slamming it down on the counter. It scorched your throat, and you began to cough at the absolutely horrid taste. It was gone, though. “T-that isn’t water!”

He sneered. “Don’t label all these fuckin’ bottles, besides, does it matter?” He eyed you over his own glass, speaking into it before taking a long satisfying gulp from the amber liquid sloshing about in its canister. 

You blinked down at the empty glass, before releasing a soft sigh. Your throat still burned, but it was getting better by the minute. “No, guess not.” And then you pushed it back towards him and rested your head in your arms that rested upon the surface. Your eyes were cast off to the side as well. “I wonder if this is the punishment I have to endure because I’m in Hell,” you laughed humorlessly. “I can’t even go anywhere because it’s dangerous and I have a target on me, especially since the News channel literally just broadcasted it. I’m left to my own devices here, man.”

A sigh as you blew one of the strands of your hair out of your face. “But nothing I do makes it any better.” You were wearing a hoodie, which was perfect considering you only wanted to hide from whatever bullshit situation was currently surrounding your life. So naturally, you tugged up your hood and pulled the drawstrings around your face, to at least attempt to hide your face, but more so your shame. 

Husk rose a brow. That was a hell of a lot more information than he had gotten from you in the past two weeks, so he was only guessing that there was, “Trouble in paradise?”

You lifted your head to look in the direction of his voice, but the only thing you could see was darkness. Because you were covering your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to uncover your face either, so you just nodded. “You don’t know what happened?” Muffled with a tilt of your head. You probably looked pretty stupid right now, but that was okay. You didn’t care. And knowing Husk, he probably didn’t give a shit, either. You didn’t know you needed someone who didn’t care until right now, when you were at your all time low. 

You didn’t need advice. You needed to get drunk, and you realized that the moment that the warmth of… whatever drink he had given you began to settle in your stomach. 

“Kid, you come with too much bullshit to follow. And I don’t normally have the patience or interest to keep up with your soap opera.” He tossed back another large gulp of his drink. “So, what happened with the Radio Dipshit?” He sat his glass down on the counter, only to swirl his claw over the rim, eyeing it with boredom. 

“It’s more of me that’s been a dipshit.” You murmured. “It was all going so well, and it’s all because of _ me _ that it went downhill. I mean.” You paused for a second, resting your covered face back into your arms as you ranted. 

“I shouldn’t have dug into his history, but after what Angel told me about Val and how he did the same things that Alastor did… or stuff that sounded like it, I had to be sure!” You exclaimed. “I had to be sure he wasn’t as bad as Angel was making him out to be.” You felt warm in the face, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t from the cold- because there was barely any form of chill coming into the closed space. 

“I… found things that I didn’t want to believe. I called him evil. He tried to reach out to me, and I didn’t know who to believe because I’m so indecisive and once I get into my mind, I can’t _ see _reason. My mind is dangerous, Husk.” Finally, you undid your cover a bit just so you could actually see him.

“I got angry at him because remember Kyle— oh wait, you don’t, you weren’t there. Well, my murderer, I wanted to let him live if he told my parents that it was him. But Alastor!” You laughed in disbelief. “Didn’t listen to me and captured him himself! He’s in his stupid microphone! And then when I got heated, I turned into my demon form… thing, and he was all like ‘I see what I have to do,’” you mocked, tilting your head this way and that as you did, lowering your voice. 

Once you began ranting, there was nothing stopping you. And in some ways, going through it all over again from start to finish, helped you figure out how to better deal with the consequences.

“And he brought up the deal again, where I was supposed to spend twenty-four hours with him, and then he would leave me alone. So I went to bed in my room, right?” You ran out of breath and wheezed. 

Husk rose a brow as you rambled about the maelstrom of problems that were swarming about your brain. It sounded like a pissed off hornet’s nest up there and he did not envy whatever the fuck you were going through. He took a deep breath and nodded absently, though he was listening, because no one could make this shit up. 

But you were far from done. You looked at him. “And then, I woke up, obviously. And I’m in his bed_ , _ he put me in his bed! In his _ bed, _Husk.” You exclaimed, as if you were trying to tell him some ungodly problem that not a soul could imagine.

It wasn’t all that bad, honestly. Spending so much time with the ‘Radio Dipshit’ had you adopt some of those particularly dramatic traits. You took a deep inhale. 

“The date that was supposed to be twenty-four hours apparently had a loophole. He wanted it to be twenty-four hours, heaven time! I don’t even know how long that is!” Your hands flew out, as you began to get excited; not out of happiness, because the next part was what fucking killed you. 

“So he started walking me down the bridge thing in his swamp—you know he has a swamp, right?—and there’s all of these memories, yadda, yadda.” You made a hand motion.

“And then… um, well, there was one memory that was shown that... had me believe him, finally. I don’t really want to go into detail about that.” But from your heated face that was heating up even more, he could probably get the hint that it was something tied to a sexual nature. “But after I told him that, he didn’t really care. He called me young and that I couldn’t be trusted with his heart, and that! That hurts! I am hurt!” Yes, very, very hurt. You bet that he was hurt, too. 

“After that we went to breakfast, and we talked for like two minutes, before I stood up, and told him that it wasn’t his fault, that it’s all on me, because it is! I’m so indecisive, and I just… can’t apply any of the lesson I could’ve learned to help me through my previous life, but I’m a fucking amnesiac. And I hate it!” You spammed your fist down onto the table. You hissed as a pain shot up your arm, but you decided to ignore it. You were on a roll.

A sigh was released. 

“Husk,” you continued, “this was the only relationship where I actually felt happy and I ruined it, because I couldn’t decide. When I told him that I needed time, he nullified the deal then and there, and left.” 

The rest wasn’t all that important. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry during the entirety of your explanation, but you sniffled and looked back to Husk. Did he even care? Or did this just go through on ear and out the other like most conversations with him did? Though, this wasn’t a conversation more than it was you rambling your broken-heart away. 

He was silent for a very long minute. “Right...” He placed his bottle down to rub at his temples. “So, let me see if I can decipher whatever the hell you just shat out of your mouth at me.” Husk stared at the table as if he were contemplating his entire existence in that moment. “Angel unloaded his own bullshit problems onto you, yeah?” He blinked at you and picked his drink back up because there was no way he was gonna listen to any more of this without more booze in his system.

“... Yeah?” You warily replied.

“And you decided it was gonna be a great time to just look up shit about the asshole that you know… is an asshole? And what were you expecting, him to be fucking saving kittens?” He rolled his eyes and pulled out another bottle. 

You stayed silent. 

He nodded to himself. “And you got pissed because you thought he was hiding something from you or whatever when… what was the first part of you knowing him like again, remind me?” Husk turned to you, tapping the glass in his hand. 

“Horrifying.” You bluntly stated.

“Right, right... And you were... aww fuck, you just unloaded so much shit, kid, whatever. Are you even surprised at all this? You knew he was a manipulative bastard. But for some dumb fucking reason, he liked you, and it took the gay spider to shake you up.” Husk filled his eyes, a deadpan expression adorning his features.

“Shit, kid, you really do need to figure yourself out. Come on. Let’s get out of here, you need some fun, and I don’t wanna hear any more bullshit come out of that mouth of yours.” Husk stood, bottle and all. He turned away from you and started walking away, not caring if you followed him or not. 

You looked at him in surprise. “Isn’t it dangerous, though? Since people know who I am?”

“No one’s gonna fuck with you when you’re with me, trust me, now hurry up.” Husk from some unknown part of his fur, pulled out the mittens and slipped them on. 

You slid off of the stool and joined him. In doing so, however, you got a glance at the mittens with an amused glint. “You still have them.” You commented, uselessly, before looking forward and stuffing your hands in your pockets. “At least it’s not _ freezing _anymore.” It was still cold though. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Just shut the fuck up for five minutes, okay? Damn kid, now I gotta process your shit.” He shook his head and stalked right on out the door. It was a bit away until he would hit a street that he could hail a taxi, but the walk would hopefully calm your ass down. You needed to get blitzed, iced, fucking coked out, something to take your mind out of self destruct mode. _ Fuckin’ kids. _

You opened your mouth to respond, but went silent. You didn’t really have anything to say, either, so you let yourself fall into pace with his lazy one. Your eyes fell to the passing stores and demons as you walked, some of them offering you dirty looks, while others completely ignored you. Some, a very _ few _, nodded in passing greetings. 

Well, at least not everyone down here was completely fucked up.

One of the things that interested you though was how colorful everyone was. There were purple, red, blue, grey, and a plethora of other colored demons. They came in all shapes and sizes, some creatures that resembled something a five year old would draw, some looking like extinct creatures, some looking more modern. There were even a few that looked relatively human, too. But the thing that made you breathe in a breath of fresh air, was that for the first time since the shit storm occurred, you didn’t think about _ him. _

Husk saw a taxi and threw up his arm. “Hey, _ FUCKER _, WE NEED A RIDE OVER HERE!” The wheels came to halt, screeching in front of you both. Husk rounded the car and slid into the back, awkwardly folding his wings. 

“Nine Lives Casino.” The driver eyed him briefly before silently nodding and shoving their foot back down onto the gas pedal, ripping up through the streets. Husk let out a sigh and sprawled out as much as he could in the back seat. It smelt like sterile sin with a hint of mistakes. Hmm, how familiar. 

You sat at the other side, propping your elbow onto the sill of the window. A sigh escaped you, fogging up the glass. The world blurred past you as the car raced past it all. But you refused to get lost in your thoughts. You were already exhausted by them. Tentatively, you leaned back and put your hands in your lap. “A casino?” You questioned softly. 

You didn’t bring money.

“You need to lighten up. Best place to do it is around a load of other people who need to loosen their wallets.” Husk kicked up a leg onto the console, ignoring the stink eye the driver was sending him. 

“Um, thanks.” You offered a weak smile to him. “But, uh, the only problem I have with that is that _ I _didn’t bring money.” You shrugged, sheepishly.

“Kid, just shut up. Don’t worry about it. You don’t need money. I _ own _ the joint.” Husk took a long pull out of the bottle he had brought with him. It was just in time for the taxi to stop in front of one of the most lavishly decorated buildings you had ever seen down here in Hell.

The front was white with black trim accents, with plenty of red and gold lights. A large black cat demon was standing outside, offering free cocktails to those that were outside on a break. Hell, there were even plants outside, in the cold, that were somehow still alive, only adding to a very Vegas feeling casino. 

“You… own this?” It was even shaped as a cat with a hat on. “How? Didn’t you originally live in a run down apartment?” You looked at him with wide eyes then, blinking in surprise. 

“Hey, my place is my place and I like it the way it is. Don’t talk shit about how I decorate, kid, not when you got problems up the wazoo about shit you don’t even understand yet.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so snappy, but damn, you really needed to calm down. 

“Sheesh, okay _ sorry. _” You held your hands up, taking a half-step away, before following him inside. 

It was gorgeous, if not exceedingly expensive. There were multiple levels, bars, and areas to gamble and play your luck with. It was nothing if not spectacular, and a bit humorous with how it was constructed. There were hundreds of demons inside, cranks being pulled, bets being won, a true casino in its entirety. The one thing you had been worried about, though, in such a public space was that you would be recognized. 

Everyone was too selfishly invested in their own possible fortunes to offer you a glance, and even a few brushed harshly past you. They didn’t care. You left out a sigh of relief, but nevertheless kept close to Husk… just in case.

“Alright, you wanna get drunk first or go straight to gambling? Personally, I say we do both at the same time.” Husk snapped his fingers and a couple of scantily clad demons, one man and one woman, you were only assuming because well... Demon forms were so colorful. They came to him immediately with trays filled not only with lavish cocktails, but also with illicit drugs. This was better than Vegas, because it was real Hell, and no one gave two shits about what was right or wrong.

Husk pulled the tray filled with fancy cocktails out of the lady demon’s arms and started carrying it to a black jack table. 

You blinked, following after him like a lost dog. You were surprised that no one stepped on his elongated, feathered tail, or at least tripped on it. But alas, they did not. You made sure not to be the first. You were led to a pool-table looking… thing, without the holes at the corners. Smaller, too. It was rounded half-way with chips on the straighter side, heavily rimmed in black, with green felt. 

Husk settled the tray on the side and popped himself onto a barstool. “Hit us, Johnny.”

You weren’t shy, so to speak, but you didn’t know how to play. So you decided to just watch for now, and drink. You reached over and grabbed a vibrant red cocktail and took a step back to let the master do his bidding. However, you were close enough to see what was going on. 

The dealer took his precious time, and in that moment, you took your own and surveyed the area. One demon stood out the most to you, simply by the style of his clothing alone. He snapped his fingers in exaggeration at the music that played within the casino, sitting cross-legged at the bar, and gazing out into the sleuth of demons. This effeminate spider wasn’t Angel Dust though, instead, it was an individual who gave off more of a French vibe. Or perhaps English; you weren’t entirely sure. His skin was monochrome, hair kempt and gelled forward, dyed in a striped pattern of black and red. 

He looked to be silently judging everyone. 

You suddenly felt very self-conscious in your choice of attire. Husk noticed who you were looking at and snorted.

“Don’t worry about that one. Ecstasy's a regular- and a real fashionista kinda guy. Just don’t ask for his opinion on your outfit. His type is good for business though, the house aaaaalways wins.” He rolled his eyes and turned back towards the bar. When you looked back over, the spider was no longer eyeing you, but instead chatting up another demon instead.

Your attention was soon pulled back to the present when you brought the drink to your lips. You were met with a fruity taste. Far better than… whatever he had given you before. It burned a bit in your throat, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. That would always be the side-effect to alcohol, and you had yet to find one that didn’t make you instantly turn your face up into a grimace. But still, you sipped on it. The little umbrella was cute, you noted light-heartedly. 

At least you were beginning to feel a bit warm inside again, too. 

Johnny, or if that really was his name, (Husk had all his employees wear one name tag to make it easier on the idiots that lost their money at his places) gave you each two cards dealt face down. He dealt himself two cards as well, yet one was face up. The card showing was a three of spades. 

Husk swivelled on his stool to you. “Have you ever played, kid?”

“Nope!” You responded immediately. 

“Alright well listen up, cuz I ain’t gonna repeat myself, so if you lose, it’s on you, got it?” 

You nodded softly, taking a step forward to position yourself at his side. You placed your drink down for a moment so you could focus your attention like a good student. You deserved a gold star and a pat on the back. But honestly, you were just glad for what distraction was offered. 

“Alright, the point of the game is to beat the dealer.” Husk nodded to him before moving to motion towards the deck of cards. “Object of the cards is to get twenty-one or as close as possible. Face cards are worth ten. Aces are eleven. Two through ten is just that. Two through ten. If you hit, you get another card, if you stay, you keep the cards you got. You hit and get above twenty-one, you’re bust. You get below twenty-one or less than the dealer, you lose. You get closer to twenty-one than the dealer, or dealer goes bust, you win. Got it?”

“So… just get as close to 21 as possible?” You looked up to him out of your peripherals.

“Yeah. Now, are you ready to play?” 

“I guess. Do I just… pick a card, or?” 

“What you wanna do is look at the cards you got, so peek at ‘em.” Husk peeked at his own cards as he had gotten them, so he knew he was dealing with an eighteen and was ready to stay.

You mimicked him. There were two cards. One was a face… so a ten. One was a four.

“Alright, do you know what number ya got?”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure what to do now. Did you put down the cards, or what the fuck man. This was so confusing. 

“Do you need another card to get you closer or are you close enough already?” Husk inquired.

“I need another card.” You looked over to the dealer then. “Please.”

“She needs a hit and I’m gonna stay.” Husk leaned back in his seat and picked up one of the cigars that was offered to him. 

_ OHH _. So hit meant to get a new card, and stay meant you were gonna keep the cards. “I got it! I think!” You looked up to Husk then.

“This is one of the easier games to get used to here. It’s a good start.” Husk nodded, a small smile on his face as he looked over at you and how proud you were of yourself. 

You bounced on the balls of your feet, and for the first time in the past few days, you smiled too.

Johnny dealt you a new card face up. It was the three of hearts. He turned to Husk and revealed his own hand, showing that he had a thirteen, before he himself hit, with the four of clubs. 

Slowly, you revealed your cards.

“Seventeen, not bad, kid.” Husk nodded in approval. He looked to the dealer and between you. “This is called a push, where you and the dealer lose, no one wins.”

“What!” You exclaimed.

“I didn’t reveal my shit yet, I’m tryna teach ya a skill, calm your ass down.” Husk flipped his cards over with a claw, showing his King and his eight. “I won, beat both of you. But if it had just been you, there wouldn’t have been a winner. Looks like you should gamble more often here, you’ll be good for business too.”

“Oh.” You said softly, before tilting your head this way and that as if you would be granted the secrets of the universe, before it processed that you’d be one of the losing types Husk had mentioned before.

“She your’s, boss?” ‘Johnny’ said, looking over to Husk.

“She’s new, she’s my granddaughter fresh from the surface, let everyone know if someone fucks with her, they fuck with me.” He picked at the end of his cigar a bit before lighting it. 

Your eyes widened a fraction, about to say ‘what’ again, before you caught on. See, you weren’t stupid! Take that, Angel! Johnny looked between the two of you for a moment, before shrugging. It did warm your heart at the fact that he called you his granddaughter, though, even if it was a lie.

You splayed your hands on the surface of the table then, a grin decorating your face. “Hit me.”

Needless to say, after a few games, and a few drinks, you were beginning to feel a tad bit… dizzy. And woozy. And all sorts of happy because now the world was spinning and you felt like you were going to win the lottery. 

“H-hey, Husk,” you giggled, stumbling towards him after he had won the last game, as well. A bit disheartened, but no worries! You were very capable of taking on the world with you and your drunk mind! “I just wanted to thank you,” your brain lagged. What were you saying again? You stumped yourself, the words retreating further and further from you the longer you searched for them. 

“I dunno what I was saying.”

“No sweat, kid, you’ve been cooped up in that hotel for too long.” Husk was still smoking and now he was just sipping on a very strong martini. He felt more comfortable in this element. It was something that was his that he had built from the ground up. 

But still, you could not escape your mind for very long, even in your drunken state. “Oh! Oh yeaaah, you wanna know what I remembered—” you hiccuped, “what, uh, Alasstor said to me?” You leaned against him then, uncaring of the world around you. He was so soft. He was such a fuzzy wuzzy kitty. 

And then, just as you said that, you frowned. “Why can’t I stop thinking of him.” It was a statement, more than a question. Oh that’s right, because you broke your own damn heart. 

He wasn’t too surprised that you were drunkenly nuzzling into him. He placed a paw between your shoulder blades, patting you like you were a stray dog, but he wasn’t accustomed to offering such affections. He was doing his damn best. “It’s cuz you fell for him and didn’t trust yourself to keep playing, kid. We all fuck up down here.” 

Husk wasn’t accustomed to offering relationship advice either, but today was just gonna have to be a day full of firsts, now wasn’t it?

You fell for him. Yes you did. Yessss you did! You nodded. Oops, too fast. Now the world was shaking up and down. You gripped the end of the table to gain some stability for once in your fucking life. “He said he loooooved me,” you hiccuped again, and then let out a soft laugh. “But how’s he know? I dunno! Don’t ask me! Why am I asking you if you know, you forgot how to, huh?” You needed to sit down.

Husk let out a sigh and set his cigar into the ashtray. He firmly gripped your upper arms and settled you onto your stool, facing outwards so you could lean your back on the table. “Kid, you’re drunk.” He shook his head. But at least even if it was only for a few hours, you didn’t have that asshat on your mind. But it was always inevitable when going through heartbreak to stumble, quite literally, back into those thoughts. 

“I know.” You said with more confidence than you probably were supposed to have. You puffed your chest out proudly. Because yes. You _ were _drunk. “How’dya know when you love someone?” Did he even remember? Did you even want to know? You leaned back and nearly fell off of the stool, but managed to keep yourself upright, even as the room was swaying back and forth, like you were on a boat lost at sea. 

He rolled his eyes. “Lost the ability to love years ago, ‘member that?” He crossed his arms and leaned his elbow on the table, eyeing you curiously. 

“... kAY,” you said a lot louder than you would’ve liked. “But like! Before that. D’sn mean you don’t remember.”

“I remember, Kid, why do you think I drink so much?” His cheek fell into his hand as he looked at you. You were too young to be going through any of this. It was all too much for someone who didn’t even remember who they were. He took a deep breath and grabbed a new cigar, lighting it up while turning to look out on all the poor saps who were losing their money and belongings. 

“Stop calling me a kid.” You frowned. “Al called me a kid, I don’t wanna be a kid. I’m _ not _ a kid.” 

“You are a kid and you will be until you learn to grow the _ fuck _ up and take responsiblity for your actions.” He took a drag and puffed out the smoke into smoke rings. 

You scrunched your face up. “Responsibility for _ what? _For not knowing how to—” you took in a heavy breath, you voice cracking. “How to love?” You were sobering up pretty damn quickly now.

“Listen, you listened to Angel, first of all, then started digging up shit you knew was gonna be shitty, and got surprised that he was like... Offended by your reaction or something. I can’t speak for the douchebag, but you knew what he was like when you got involved with him. And you did, and then backed out because of shit other people told you… Sounds kinda childish to me.” He eyed you like he was your grandfather. 

Honestly, you came out to have a good time and you were feeling so attacked right now. “You make it sound so simple.” You whispered then.

“It’s cuz it is. You’re in your head too much which is why you get all fucked up there. You need to listen to yourself more. Sometimes the gambles you take early on are the ones that pay off the most. The ones later on you need to calm down on.” He took a drag. “You’re fresh meat down here, and you need to be able to think for yourself, otherwise, you’re gonna get fucked over.” He rolled the tobacco in his fingers and flicked part of the ash onto the floor. 

“I… okay.” You said under your breath then, casting your eyes down to the floor. Oh, too fast. The world was still spinning and you felt woozy still. The more you tried to focus, the more blurred it became. 

“Let’s get you home and in bed, kid. You gotta sleep this off.” Husk stood and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hoisting you into his side. One of his wings puffed outwards to shield you from view. He had noticed on and off that people had been taking pictures of you throughout the night, which is why he had his employees haul their asses out of his place. 

“Yeah, okay.” A hiccup then, and then the two of you were on your way home. It was dark out, which signified that you had been out a lot… longer than you originally thought. The haloed cloud was the only light source in the sky, illuminating the drab, red world around you. Then you were in a taxi, and then you were outside of the hotel. Honestly, being drunk made things happen so… quickly. 

It felt like you were in the casino not even a moment ago.

“I uh,” you stumbled up the stairs of the patio, a bit more sober than you were when you had left, but you were still drunk. And you were exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally spent. And then, you latched onto the oversized feline in a hug, even if he wanted to pry you off of him. You didn’t care. You stayed there for a moment, nuzzling your face into the fluff of the drunkard for a second longer, before you pulled away. 

“Thanks, Husk. I um,” 

“Don’t mention it.” He cut off. “I own most of the casinos down here if you ever need to let loose, kid. You sound like you need it.” He pat you on the shoulder before giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Get some sleep.”

You offered him a small, weak smile before entering the hotel. For a long moment, you hesitated on whether or not to actually pass out, but you also knew that you still had… something to take care of. Someone? Letting your hand offer you stability as you trailed it across the wall, you let yourself into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There, you lazily sorta through the contents, until you picked out a pack of deli meat. 

You looked at it, bringing your fist up to rub at your eyes sleepily, before shrugging your shoulders and closing the door.

Yeah, he was a carnivore. He probably loved whatever meat you could give him.

And then you found yourself slowly walking up the stairs once more, down the long expanding hallway, and then up another set of stairs. The second hallway, _ his _hallway, made your heart lurch in your chest. Silently, you walked down the vacant hall and navigated towards his room. Or what was once his room. He was gone now. You felt painfully constricted in all ways as you hovered your hand over the knob, before turning it, taking a deep breath, and opening it. 

You had never realized how much his room smelled like him.

It also smelled like a swamp, but it was _ his _room. There was the sound of water, the crickets still, and you were half expecting to see him in his bed asleep. When you saw the bed untouched, you swallowed harshly. With a shaky breath, you closed the door behind you and navigated towards the edge of the swamp. “Critter?” You called softly, quietly. And then you shook the package in your hand. You said his name again, louder.

Critter had been doing Critter things. There were tons of little snacks that swam in his home, and they were so fast, sneaky! Always diving into their stinky mud holes… It wasn’t fair! But then Critter heard his name being called and the sound of a something shaking in another something! Critter liked it when that sound was made. He swam as fast as he could to the sound. When he found where it had come from, he saw the Small Big One holding the something. He started clicking his jaws together in anticipation while he waddled onto the more solid ground. 

Critter was hungry and Critter wanted food. 

“There you are.” You slowly leaned down to rest on your knees. At least the world wasn’t spinning anymore. “Here.” As quick as you could, you took the deli meat out of the plastic and tossed a bit over the floor. It slapped against the surface. Critter was still rather… off putting, with the eyes that all stared at you and the fact that he could probably still bite a finger off if he wanted to.

Was… he bigger than last time? 

Critter chirped happily and waddled right to what was offered. This was the best day of Critter’s life. Meat, straight from the Small Big One. Man oh man, those little swimmy snacks were stupid! This was great! He stuffed his face right into the meat and started snapping his jaws, taking messy bites out of it. He was able to get his head under it and he flipped it up only to have it land on his eyes. 

Critter started crying again. 

Critter’s life was always so hard! First it was the stupid white stuff and now his meat was all over him! Critter didn’t deserve such hardship! Critter only wanted the foods and the snacks! Why did this have to happen to Critter!?

“Oh no.” You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from you. Shuffling towards him on your knees, you positioned yourself so that you sat cross-legged, before leaning over and very lightly swiping the meat off of his face. And then you scooted backwards. “It’s gone now.” You said lightly in hopes that he wouldn’t just… bite you. You were within biting distance afterall. 

Critter stopped crying and started waddling closer to where you were holding all the meat. He wanted it right from the source. He came right up to you. The big big one never hurt him, he didn’t think you would either. The Big Big one always called him a good boy, so Critter was sure you would too. Critter started slowly making his way towards you, but kept stumbling over his own feet. 

Critter’s life really was so hard. 

But he was able to make it right next to your leg, where he placed his scaly feet on you so he could get a better look at you. You looked soft, like the Big Big One’s fancy stuff. But you were more... Something. Critter clicked at you and all his little googly eyes fell to what you were holding on your hand. 

“Uh…” You stuttered out, your eyes widened as he got closer and closer to you. Was it even a he? You didn’t know. You looked between it and the package you were holding. Oh. “You want this?” Of course he did. Taking out the rest of the meat right then and there, you held it out to him.

Critter chirped out happily and started eating out of your hand. He knew he couldn’t be mean or rough, because he had dozens of awesome sharp teeth in his mouth. The Big Big one told him that. He hadn’t seen him in a while. But maybe you were his new Big One. This was great, because now he didn’t have to eat any of that dumb green stuff, all meat, no stuff! You were even sliding it across your hand so he could get it straight. Critter deserved this! Critter was a good boy! Critter was getting good boy treatment!

When it was all finished, and all was said and done, you hesitantly reached over and placed your hand atop his scaley head. And then, before beginning to stand up, you offered a small smile. You weren’t sure if he understood body language at all since he wasn’t human, but he was pretty damn endearing. Stretching, you turned around and were immediately faced with… his bed. Instantly, a yawn fell from your lips, even as your heart felt tight. Slowly, you walked over to it before trailing your hand across the fabric.

You missed him. You had fucked up, and you missed him. 

Critter liked you. The Small Big One was good. Critter crawled after you, his little claws tapping softly once he was on the smooth ground. This ground was hard. This was weird. But he kept following you until his snout pushed into the back of your leg. 

You jumped slightly, before looking behind and then down to him. It was a stalemate for a long moment, where both of you didn’t know what the fuck to do, but somehow, something inside of you told you to trust those big googly eyes and pick him up. Leaning down, you brought your hands under his arms, and lifted that long, scaly body up. And then you placed him on the bed. 

Alastor would probably have killed you for letting him on the bed, but he wasn’t here, was he? 

And then, with a loud exhale, you crawled into bed as well. You tucked yourself into the mattress and the blankets, before reaching over and grabbing one of his pillows. There, you held onto it like it was your lifeline. You missed him, desperately. “I’m sorry,” you whispered into the pillow then, as if it really were him. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t there. And in the moment of intense longing, you began to realize why you missed him so.

It was because after all this horror, you had truly fallen for him in a way that made the heartbreak so much more painful. And the fact that you didn’t know if he would come back, killed you. After all of this anguish, you had finally come to terms with yourself, that _ you love him. _

You nuzzled your cheek into the pillow, even as you began to drift off.

Critter liked this ground. It was soft, warm, and dry. The small big one was awesome. He scampered over to you and nestled right next to you. This was warm and soft. The ultimate good boy treatment. Critter was a happy boy. Critter liked you. You were safe, just like the Big Big one, but you were different. 

And he liked that about you. Critter was still home. 

_ You _ could be Critter’s home. 


	55. Clean Up Your Shit

Each day began like the last. 

Somehow, someway, you woke up and were forced to face the daily horrors that made up your life. Your dreams were vacant from your mind, and while you weren’t plagued with the haunting nightmares that began to make up most of your nights, it was still…  _ odd _ to have none at all. With all of the thoughts that bounced around in the deepest recesses of your mind, you supposed you had gotten used to the influx of legitimate dreams in the sense that they were your own way of piecing together all the shit you had gone through the prior day.

You weren’t entirely certain if it was a reprieve or not, but the fact that it happened after you realized you sincerely regretted all of the events that had taken place, was certainly more of a coincidence than you were willing to give it credit for. But everything was too raw and painful, in more ways than one if your splitting migraine from your hangover was anything of a reminder.

Your stomach coiled nauseatingly as you stretched your fingers out individually to feel the softness of the pillows. His bed had always been cool; and as the light streamed in from the windows and offered you an idea of the time, simply by how  _ bright  _ it was, you were half-tempted to just curl into yourself and remain there for as long as you could. At least then people wouldn’t be able to see your emotion-riddled face, and you could still breathe in the only semblance of his comfort you had gotten in days: his scent. 

And you sincerely doubted that anyone would try to rouse you.

But you couldn’t, because when you moved to do just that, your knees bumped into a hard mass.

Critter curled deeper into the big soft. It was warm, safe, and best of all, it was dry! Sometimes Critter got too cold, but not in the big soft! Not with the Small Big One around! No, because then Critter got the good boy treatment. This was the life Critter deserved! This is the life that Critter wanted for forever! 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, confusion clouding your mind as you slowly propped yourself up with an elbow to peer down at the scaly creature nestled into your side. So he hadn’t bitten your face off, but slept with you. That was good. It wasn’t necessarily the pet of your choosing, considering it wasn’t something  _ particularly  _ soft and fluffy, or even plump like Fat Nuggets was. But it was like a bulldog, so ugly that it was actually cute. But this bulldog wasn’t a bulldog at all, but instead a two foot gator that shed its scales and replaced them with googly eyes.

It was a bit… off putting, but to see him curled into you, you couldn’t help but let a small, wary, half-smile fall upon your lips. “Morning, Critter.” You released a yawn then as you pushed yourself up and sat with your back against the headboard and pillows. The alligator rumbled through his chest with something akin to that of a helium squeak.

You assumed that it would only get deeper as he aged. 

Critter peeked open half of the eyes on his body, and as they swirled onto you, the pupils that were once slitted, dilated in recognition. His jaws began to snap in a clicking sound, and you could only guess that it was because he was like some type of exceedingly exotic dog. Excitement? Whatever it was, your thoughts faltered as he rolled his body around a bit just so he could press himself more firmly into your side. 

Critter decided at that moment that the Small Big One was his favorite. He would stay with you! Forever, hopefully, because he always got the good stuff when he was around you! And you constantly made sure to get the foods out of his eyes. Critter’s life didn’t have to be so hard when he was around you!

Hesitantly, you reached out and pressed a palm just against the back of his scaly neck. You were thrilled that the eyes in that region instinctively closed so you didn’t have to feel wet eyeballs. “Thanks for not eating me.” You murmured, your voice still primarily plagued by sleep. 

You wondered though, the true reasoning behind him being in the swamp itself. You hadn’t been aware there was an actual ecosystem other than like, crawfish in the water and crickets. But other than that? You were clueless as to how the fuck you were even going to take care of this thing, now that he was practically abandoned. 

After a minute of resting and running your hand along the rough texture of his scales, you blinked away your bleary vision and removed the blankets so you could get out of the bed. In doing so, your eyes immediately fell upon the bookcases that lined the walls, all of them already collecting dust. You hoped for Critter’s sake that Alastor had kept some sort of book on native species down here. 

Critter’s life had so many ups and downs. And now he was trapped in the big soft for all of eternity. He started crying as he looked at your turned physique, as you were now so painfully far away. Critter thought life would be so much better when he was with the Small Big One, but now, here he was, stuck. His whining cry sounded like a mixture between a bird chirping and a hiccup, it was all pretty pathetic. 

All of his eyes even started to water. 

You paused in your aimless search the moment that you began to hear the tell-tale sound of distress. When you turned and saw the small creature pacing back and forth, ultimately getting caught in the blankets by his claws, you couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. “Right. Sorry.” You said lightly, your teeth glinting as you smiled appeasingly. When you began to walk back over to the bed, you watched in thinly veiled amusement as that tail, generally used for swimming, began to beat against the blankets. 

He really  _ was  _ like a dog.

You gingerly placed your hands underneath his front legs, lifted him up while simultaneously being wary of his claws, and then placed him back onto the floor. “There!” You rested your hands on your hips. “Better now?” Why were you still talking to him, you may ask? Maybe it was because that offered you some comfort too, even if you were well aware of the fact that he would never respond. 

Your voice even adopted a higher pitch when you spoke to him.

Oh boy! The Small Big One was his savior! As Critter was placed on the ground, he immediately started to trail over to you, his tail slapping against the floor with a satisfying smacking sound. He looked up to you, literally, and snapped his jaws. In doing so, another miniature squeak fell from him. 

A grin began to grow on your face, before you began to clap happily. “That’s great! You’re a good… slightly scary, boy!” You praised before finally, you turned around and began to head towards the bookcases. “But I have to find more information on what you are.” If he wanted had a chance at living, it wasn’t an option. Just as you were about to reach said bookcase for the second time, though, you were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. 

Just your luck.

At first it was the fast pitter patter that only seemed to grow in intensity as the Hotel’s best maid, Niffty, wheeled in a cleaning cart. Water splashed over the lip of the bucket as it came to a halt. She was zipping about the room, making small comments to herself all the while: “Nope! Ew, another moldy sock?  _ Alastor! _ ” She huffed, and you were left to stare with a wide gaze of uncertainty and confusion because… could socks even  _ get  _ moldy? 

And then, before you could react properly, the gremlin cyclops ran straight up to you, and, oh, she was lifting you up over her head to snatch up another sock. There were so many things happening and you were exceedingly confused. It was only when you let out a gasp, did she notice that she was actually holding you up without effort. Honestly, were you really that light? It seemed like anyone could pick you up without effort. Or maybe they just had super strength. 

“Oh hi! You’re in here again? You should really go back to your room sometime, it’s just been gathering dust for the past week!”

You peered down at her. “Hi.” It was the only greeting you could manage in return. “C-can you let me down?” 

“Oh! Whoopsie daisy!” Niffty immediately set you down, before her large eye darted about the room again, reevaluating the mess of the swamp room. 

An exaggerated sigh escaped her. “This room is the  _ worst! _ Alastor is going to ruin the carpet you know, and the mud just tracks all over!” She zipped behind you to clean up the trail you had left in the mud, before her eye landed on the bed. Where Critter had also been sleeping. “Ew.” 

You watched as best you could, but the majority of the time, you could only watch when she was still, because she was a blur for ninety-eight percent of it. “Well, Alastor isn’t... here anymore.” You said lightly. “So I guess he doesn’t have to worry about the mess there is to clean up.” Figuratively and literally, as you looked at the muddy spots she pointed out. You began to make your way back to the bookshelf, where you started to part through them. You weren’t sure what you were searching for exactly, but anything to do with fauna was a good place to start. 

“And yet the mess remains!” Niffty exclaimed from somewhere behind you. “This is what he gets for deciding he  _ has _ to live in a swamp, but that's just what men are like, right? They don’t care about messes or leaving it behind for us ladies to clean!” She clicked her tongue. “Don’t get me wrong, Alastor is more clean than most fellas I’ve met, but this is pretty ridiculous!” She had the bed stripped on a matter of seconds, throwing the sheets in the laundry bin as she continued to clean.

Your eyebrows lifted as you nodded absentmindedly. You were listening, but you were also searching _ .  _ “He said that the swamp calms him. I…” You stopped for a second. “Read somewhere that he had a place in the swamp.” Ouch, that hurt. You shook your head. “Or at least- that he claimed a swamp territory.” And then you looked down at Critter who had now positioned himself at your feet. Niffty didn’t even seem fazed over him. 

“Hey, Niffty, do you know what he is?” 

“Who?” Niffty looked over at the strange creature at your feet, and made a face.

You could literally see the lightbulb go off atop her head.

“Oh  _ him! _ That’s Critter, the little mess maker. Good for garbage disposal, bad for the furniture. I had to buff out teeth marks from that coffee table over there twice last month!” She didn’t seem to get what you were asking, but it wasn’t something that particularly mattered to her. Critter was a lil dude who made messes, so she wasn’t the biggest fan, and didn’t care what he was beyond that. 

That… wasn’t what you meant, but you supposed it didn’t matter, because when you turned around, you were met with the title on the spine of the book that said ‘The Wicked World of Nature’. You guessed that it was as best of a ‘fauna’ book that you would get. You hoped that it wasn’t just a book and actually an encyclopedia, though. 

When you pulled it out, you were greeted with a plain black cover, as if whoever had written it didn’t care enough or didn’t have the time or creativity to make it eye-catching. You flipped it open and were immediately greeted with grotesque creatures and plants of all shapes, sizes, and species. Some looked like something from an alien planet; some were creatures straight out of a horror show. Pure nightmare fuel. 

All of the names were labeled scientifically; so it was pretty easy to figure out that an ‘Alligatoridae’ meant alligator. 

When you reached the page, you were greeted with a drawing, information, and pictures of the species in the wild. “ _ Daemonis Alligatoridae” _ , it read, and you barely noticed that you had whispered it out loud too. You could read it later. Critter wasn’t going anywhere. You closed the book and tucked it under your arm— you were taking it, thank you very much. As you turned back around, and watched silently as Niffty sped around, you were met with a feeling of nostalgia. You used to clean with her. 

It felt like so long ago. 

“So, how are the new tools treating you?” You half-smiled. Because Alastor had given them to you, and you gave them to Niffty. Everything always led back to him. 

“Oh man! They’re great! So much better than the old stuff, I can clean so much faster now! Thanks again for giving them to me, you’re so sweet!” Her voice was bright and full of energy that you wished you could borrow a sliver of. She looked around the room again, before nodding to herself. “Alastor’s really not been here in a while! The only messes were your usual ones. I thought he might still be coming back and forth but I guess not!”

You were pretty sure that wasn’t meant to hurt you, but it stung. You winced. You weren’t…  _ that  _ dirty. “Do you not know what happened?” Slowly, you walked over to the sheetless bed and sat atop it.

“Nope!” She looked over at you, quirking her head. “I know better than to ask too much about what Alastor does! I’m just here to clean up the messes. Why? Was it really that bad?” She turned to the bookshelf, looking over it herself, as if searching for a better way to reorganize the books.

One of the things that you had always noticed about Niffty apart from her being ridiculously  _ nifty  _ at doing her job, and fast on her feet, was that she never really did question Alastor. There was an unrestrained amount of trust there that you envied, but you supposed it could also be a sense of naivety as well. It was a loyalty that she owed the Radio Demon, and she did it well. Husk, on the other hand...

“Ugh! Does Alastor  _ seriously _ not know about the Dewey Decimal System!? This would be so much more organized!” 

You let out a sharp laugh, falling back upon the bed. You bounced for a moment before you remained still, and after a moment, you stared at the indentations of the ceiling, a belated breath escaping you. “ _ I _ didn’t know better, to answer your question.” You said with a frown. Was it even a question? It was rather difficult to keep up with her tone with how quick she spoke constantly. 

“You know, I probably learned all of these lessons in my life before I died, but because I can’t remember them, I act like some… kid.” You made a face. “And he blamed me for not trusting him because I didn’t  _ know _ how to trust him. Because I forgot about the fact that before trusting anyone else, I should have probably trusted myself! And I didn’t!” 

You let your arms fall to the sides as you sprawled against the bed. “But now, Niffty, I think I’m beginning to find a starting point.” You began softly. “Husk told me that I needed to take responsibility for my actions, even though I don’t even know if I’ll see him again, even though I-” 

“OO _ OOH _ ! You’ve got relationship problems! I’ve been there, but it was an easy fix for me! I just killed my boyfriend and poof! Problem solved! Only took one swing of an axe.” She giggled lightly, starting to redress the bed, starting with the pillows. “Scooch over, I gotta put these new sheets down!” 

You sat up and slid off the bed, your expression voicing your thoughts well enough. Niffty, this little cyclops neat freak, murdered her boyfriend? Maybe she really  _ was  _ meant down here, then. But as much as you sometimes though about killing Alastor over stupid little arguments, you would have never gone through with it. It was a thought birthed by anger and hurt, and you made that abundantly clear. 

“I doubt that would solve my problems,” you said warily. 

“Hmmm…” She made a face as well, thinking. She tapped her tiny finger against her chin as she processed what you were saying. “Well! Love is a complicated thing! I didn’t love my boyfriend that’s for sure, but I listened to my gut and then I was happy! He always made such a mess, and he wasn’t nice to me either. It sounds like you just gotta buckle down and clean up this mess in your own way! Roll up your sleeves! Put some elbow grease in!” She made a pose similar to Rosie the Riveter.

“But how?” You took a step closer to the bed as she made it. Your gut told you to fix it and take responsibility for your actions. You needed to listen to your heart, more than your mind. “I probably already ruined everything.” A sad laugh.

Niffty looked at you for a long moment, before she took her broom and swung, smashing a vase onto the wooden floor. With the velocity that it was thrown, it shattered into a million tiny pieces. The smaller demon then looked back at you expectantly.

You gawked.  _ “Niffty!”  _

“That’s a mess!” She pointed at it. “I made that mess myself. And it’s not gonna be the easiest to clean up cause it's glass and it’s everywhere _ . _ But it’s still  _ my _ mess.” She leaned on her broom. “Unless I wanna keep stepping on broken glass everyday, I gotta do whatever I can to clean it up! It’s not always easy, and I might even get a cut while doing it, but it’ll be worse if I just leave it there.” 

“Oh.” Oh?  _ Oh?  _ All you could manage was an  _ Oh?  _ Well, yeah, because you understood now, but also because you were shocked because apparently Niffty had a brain… that worked. You had once heard Alastor claim that she was dumber than a shoe, and now you knew to at least not take opinion at face value. You took a deep breath, before you nodded. “I guess I’ll clean up my own mess, somehow.” 

And you were determined to fix it. You just needed to know where to start. “Do you know where I can find him?”

Before you could finish speaking, the glass had already been swept and disposed of. Niffty looked over her shoulder at you when you asked about his whereabouts. That large, bulbous eye looked up in thought. “Hmmm… he could be anywhere really! I’d bet that he went deeper into the swamp on the eastern side of the pentagram, but I wouldn’t go there if I were you! You’ll be up to your knees in mud! And that’s a real mess!” 

“I… doubt that’s my biggest worry.” You said quickly. You were mostly worried about the fact that he might not forgive you for doing what was unforgivable. He didn’t need to. You messed up, and the consequences were on you. But you could hope. “Does he have a place at this swamp? Where is it? What would I be looking for?” You also probably needed a damn weapon too.

“Yeah, he has a gross old cabin.” She scrunched her face up. “Once you get into the swamplands, just look for a light almost like a firefly in the distance and follow that. He’s got this porchlight that's always on. Oof, it’s probably a complete wreck, it’ll actually be good if you swing by! It could definitely use a lady’s touch! Oh! But watch out for the gators!” Niffty took one more survey of the room. 

“Anyway I gotta split! Try not to let Critter into the trash or laundry okay? Okay, Bye bye!” Just like that, Niffty had already taken off, the quick pitter patter of her feet faded into the distance as she zipped down the hall, dusting along the way.

You sighed, before you looked down to your feet at Critter. “Well bud,” you knelt down, picking him up and holding him under your other arm. Now you had an arm with a book, and one with a gator. Great. “We should probably go find Charlie.” Afterall, she needed to know your grand, and possibly stupid, decision. 

Nevertheless, you walked down the hallway with a newfound determination, though, there was a nervousness that crept into your stomach as well. You were afraid, excited, anxious, reinvigorated to do the right thing, even if you… didn’t exactly have a plan to begin with. You would figure it out. Probably. 

At first, though, you entered your own room when you reached it and placed the book on your endside table. There, you let the gator onto the ground so he could follow you. Your arm had been getting tired. He was heavy, in a sense. Carrying something for an indecipherable amount of time that weighed thirty pounds would surely do its job on your muscles. 

“Alright.” You huffed out. “So... “ You looked down at Critter then. “It’s dangerous where I’m going, but we can do this together, right?” You kneeled down then. You were afraid, yes, but you were determined. You were also probably pretty stupid to even be considering this- let alone actually doing it, but here you were. 

You were going to do The Thing one way or another. 

Critter blinked up at you. This was different. This room was smaller, and smelt like the Small Big One. He started sniffing around, looking eerily similar to a puppy in some ways. He started nosing his muzzle onto the wooded desk. It smelt like the Big Big One. Critter turned around and slapped himself onto the floor in a laying down motion. 

Then he just kind of laid there… and let his tongue flop out of his mouth. Critter was tired. 

“Uhm,” You rubbed the back of your neck as you watched him do such a thing; he was cute. In a weird, ugly sort of way. You could see all of the sharpened teeth in his mouth now. He would be dangerous, definitely, when he grew. 

What were you doing here again? Oh, right. “C’mon, let's go find Charlie.” You pat your knees and whistled for him, saying ‘c’mere boy,’ and all of those endearing terms. Your arms were tired though, so you didn’t really… want to carry him. If the two of you were going to a god-damn swamp, then he would surely be in his element.

Critter saw your silly motions. He let out a grunt and stood up on his short legs, waddling over to you, his tail swishing back and forth as he followed after you. If his new master wanted him to follow, he was gonna do it. Because he knew he would get the good boy treatment ™.

You nearly let out a sigh of relief. 

Turning around, you opened the door and led him out, before closing it behind the two of you. You’d be back soon. Taking a deep breath, you silently took a step forward, and then another, as you began to walk down the increasingly long hallway; even as the slimey, little gator trailed behind you. At first you stopped at Charlie’s room, preparing yourself to explain your decisions and try to convince her that it was the best one. You knew that it probably wasn’t the  _ best,  _ but it was your only choice. 

You had made your bed, and now you had to sleep in it. 

Your mess was something you would have to clean up yourself, just like Niffty had said. You knocked, half expecting the door to be thrown open and your arrival to be announced by having glitter thrown at you, but all you were greeted by, was silence. You knocked again. No answer. You hummed, before making your way down to the lobby.

When you reached the staircase that led to the lobby floor, you looked down to Critter. Honestly, he could probably just slide down it. You started to descend, letting your hand trail against the bannister.

Critter stopped at the foot of the stairs and let out another one of those chirps. His tail was smacking against the wood expectantly. He didn’t wanna fall. Stairs were mean, and they always ended up hurting him. He wasn’t gonna hurt himself, so you would just have to carry him.

You stopped. “Critter, I can’t carry you for everything.” You groaned as you shook your head lightly, before turning back around, taking a few steps and quite literally leaning over the few stairs you had left because you were too lazy to climb them. You tucked him beneath an arm and when you finally reached the bottom, you let him gently slide from your grip as you placed him firmly onto the ground. 

The lobby was quiet too. You squinted.  _ Suspicious _ . 

And then the sound of rustling in the kitchen caught your attention. “Charlie?” You called, gently, as you made your way to the swing doors. Once you opened it, you nearly forgot to keep it open for Critter to follow you, but the small creature wasn’t going to let you forget him. You could trip over him if you weren’t careful with how close he was crawling. “Char— Oh, hi Vaggie.” You stopped in place once you saw the moth demon sorting through the fridge.

“Hey, chica.” She greeted over her shoulder. She had never noticed before that Alastor actually did things. She had assumed he had only been here to cause chaos and destroy the hotel, but in the past week, she had noticed that the fridge was no longer magically restocking itself. She soon came to the conclusion this was because Alastor had been the one who did a lot of the grocery shopping. She and Charlie had gotten far too busy with the advertising stuff and party planning to do it. 

“Uh, do you need help?” You said, your voice lilting at the end. “Do you know where Charlie is?”

“Nah, I got this. Just a few more things and we’re back to being stocked up. Thanks for the offer though.” She settled a couple gallons of milk into the door. “As for Charlie, she’s with her dad right now. They need to discuss something. She didn’t say a lot before she left this morning.”

Your face dropped a bit. You hoped it wasn’t because of you. Without Alastor here, everything seemed to be so much more difficult-- not just for you, either, even though your heart longed for him. Well, at least Vaggie could pass on the message. You anxiously twiddled your thumbs. 

“I’m gonna go find Alastor.” Bomb drop.

Vaggie paused in what she was doing. She stuffed the bag of groceries she had been holding into the fridge and shut it before turning around. “You’re gonna what now?” She knew you had been sad, but she had only gotten parts of the story from Charlie. Charlie wanted you to be able to come to them without pretense or prior bullshit in the way. 

“... Find Alastor?” 

Her expression was blank. “You really miss him, huh?”

You were the one to pause then, and you looked down to Critter who you were pretty sure was just trying to find some food now. Or something. 

Critter was sniffing around the kitchen. This place was new and strange, but it had the most smells of the good stuffs he had ever smelt. He was heading towards the pantry. 

“I messed up, Vaggie.” You said finally, taking in a deep breath as you looked back up to her. “Really, really bad.” You moved over to the pantry and leaned against it to block Critter’s path. “I don’t just miss him, I-” You hesitated. You could say it in your mind and accept it, but you were a bit nervous to say it out loud. If anything, you didn’t want to seem like more of a fucking idiot than you already were.

Vaggie noticed, but picked up on the crumbs you were laying down. “Charlie didn’t go into details with me. Except that uh… you found a new friend.” She looked down at the little creature currently bumping his muzzle into your ankles to try and move you out of the way. 

“And if it’s any consolation, love is really hard. It’s different for everyone and down here, you kinda have to learn to be patient with yourself and your partner. Charlie said you were struggling with some stuff, but hun, you can do this… just be careful.” She knew she was sounding very off considering all the warnings she had given you in the past. But she had also seen how Alastor was with you. 

She hadn’t been in Hell for that long, but it was long enough to know that if the Radio Demon truly did take an interest in you like he had… he must really have genuine feelings for you.

“You have to follow your heart… but since I don’t think I’ll ever trust him, but uh, here.” She came a couple steps closer to you and handed you a butcher’s knife. “Just in case. You know- if he tries anything.” She pat you on the shoulder with a small smile. 

There was no doubt how much Vaggie herself had grown since the start of the hotel. She was still good old Vaggie, but, in a sense, you began to feel like she had grown to see the bigger picture. It was a realization that had you hesitating to immediately grab the knife. If it had been earlier on in your life down here, you would have grabbed it without a second though, but now? While you doubted you would really need it  _ because  _ of him, you were certain that you didn’t know Alastor as well as you thought you had. He would always keep secrets from you that weren’t in your best interest.

And you were beginning to accept that. 

Nevertheless, you grabbed the knife hilt and placed it to the side for a moment. The moment you wrapped your arms around her in an embrace, you felt her stiffen against you. “I’m really lucky to have you guys as my friends.” You said, “I can’t imagine a life without you all.”

Eventually, the moth demon relaxed into it and settled a hand on your head and on your back. You, too, had grown a lot while you were down here, even if you didn’t see it yourself. She smiled a bit at the top of your head. You were like a little sister. “I can’t either. I’m glad you’re here.” Her arms wound around you tighter.

And then you pulled back. “You don’t have to trust him.” A pause. “But I have to at least try.”

“Then, good luck. You’re gonna need it.” She gave your arm a squeeze before releasing and turning back the groceries. “Bring him back here, he’s got grocery duty, this shit is so tedious.”

You laughed softly but nodded lightly. And then just as you were about to turn around, you paused and picked up the glinting knife. “Wait uh, before I go… Do you have a holster or something I can put this in? Or do I just… carry it?” You scrunched your face up. 

“Hun, this is  _ Hell _ , no one’s gonna blink at you carting around a weapon.” Her deadpan tone reminded you  _ exactly  _ where you were. 

“Right.” You said softly. “Right.” A firm nod. Yes, you were in Hell, and it wasn’t like you would go to jail for murder. Except you wouldn’t murder. You would only use it to defend yourself. “Thanks Vaggie,” and then you turned around, pat your thigh to get Critter’s attention, and exited the kitchen. 

But before you left, you wanted to visit the one person who helped fuck this all up to begin with, even if it was with good intentions.

_ Angel Dust.  _


	56. The Light Will Guide You Home

This entire shit show had started with that stupid fucking announcement. 

Everything had been actually going alright for a while, and then, of _ course, _ while Angel was having a good time, minding his own business, that Radio Fuck had stepped up to make a big statement about his newfound relationship with the short fish girl. Or _ whatever _ the hell she was.

Ever since then, Angel’s entire mood felt like absolute horseshit. How was he supposed to enjoy his vacation away from the industry when this trainwreck was happening right in front of him? He hadn’t liked her. Never did, never would. She was a whiny, nosey, indecisive little nobody. But hey- he could appreciate a doll wanting to get dicked down. So he hadn’t interfered. 

In fact, he had encouraged it! 

If it got Alastor off his ass and stopped him from bossin’ everyone around, kept the short-stack happy and too sexed out to guilt him anymore, he was all too happy to… offer his services. 

That was until they had to go and make things _ serious. _

The minute she dragged his drunk ass offstage, Angel felt his body bristle. His fur had stood on end and he couldn’t help the frown that was set in place. He had huffed and snatched the nearest six-er and settled them into his room for a quick fuck. Yeah! That would get his mind off it. Everyone wanted a piece of him! It wasn’t his business, anyways. It was her stupid ass mistake to make.

But after he gave the rando the royal boot out of his room, he was left alone to his thoughts. He thought back to the before, to the time he had spent under Val’s thumb. 

It was the worst and constantly tore him apart. 

He _ had _ put himself in that situation, and he had busted his ass to get out of it. Even still, he never felt like he was really safe, or truly away from the haunting memories and terror that surfaced at the rim of the outer portion of his mind. It was a sense of paranoia that had him looking over his shoulder constantly. 

He had this hotel for now, but that fish bitch was stuck with her boss and there would be nowhere else to go for her if this place failed.

Alright, so maybe he had gotten soft after all this time in this stupid joint. He usually would let people sit in their own shit- but as the minutes ticked by, Angel could feel the minuscule amount of conscience he had left eating away at him. If there was any sense of humanity that he still possessed, it was found when he had turned on his phone and started to thumb through some old pictures.

There, he came across the ecstatic face of his twin sister, Molly. 

She was not in Hell and didn’t deserve to be, either. It was a fucked up system, in retrospect. But the family that he had known was in the damnable clutches of Hell, were the ones that Val had made sure were off-limits to. Although Arackniss, his brother, and Henroin, his father, could go fuck themselves, it was the fact that he couldn’t see them even if he wanted to (which he didn’t) that made him glad that he was out of that shithole in the first place. 

The longer he stared at that photo, something that he had obtained through web-searching in curiosity, the more the guilt began to nag at him. He thought more about the Dumbass™ and how that if she had been Molly, he’d hope that someone would have looked out for her, say _ something _to get her out before she was in over her own head. 

The minute that he opened his door that morning, Niffty was already inside his room for his sheets. _ Little bitch was fast,_ he’d have to give her that. He didn’t really enjoy how she always griped at him about how gross he left his room but whatever. His emotions had been boiling up the entire stomp to her room, and when she had acted so sheepish about her idiotic decision to actually _ date _that smiling fuckwad, that was his final straw.

Now, he’s not the type of guy to kiss and tell all the details, but if he told her a story about a uh… ‘friend’ then that would be fine. At least that's what he told himself as he dragged her to his room.

Retelling his tale was difficult, to say the least. He had tried his best not to give anything away that would point to himself, but it seemed she picked up on it regardless.

Not as dumb of a broad as he originally thought. 

After vehemently denying everything and throwing her out of his room, Angel slumped against his door, rubbing his face. He had done his due diligence to try and warn her, and if she was that stupid as to ignore all of the obvious red flags, then that was her problem to deal with.

_ He shouldn’t care. _

He then huffed again and went to his bathroom, lifting the back cover to get his secret stash of drugs taped to the lid.

Little cyclops bitch never checked in there, ha! After a good snort or two, Angel Dust flopped back on his bed and let himself fall into his world of hallucinations. 

The trip started with a door, a passageway into the world he was willingly jumping into every time he got high. He knew this door well, the cold feel of the brass doorknob against his hand, the creak it made when he turned it, and the rush of hot air that always hit him the moment it opened- all familiar and always the same. 

He always would see faces- faces of those he knew before, faces he’d come to know down here- all warped with colors in a spectrum that melted together like a crappy painting. He watched his sister hop on a stage to do a performance with her human self. The two of them moved together, only to vanish in a flourish of sequins and boas. He then looked down to see his body had become human, but with the same warped proportions of his spider body. 

Several sets of hands were on his body then, yanking him through another door. This one soaked him in tar, seeping into the fur that began to reappear on his body. He tried to swim, to keep the tar from consuming him, but those hands, long and clawed, grabbed him by his hips and sunk him under. 

In the depths of the tar, he saw one last door, small and distant. There, he managed to claw his way through it, coming up for a deep breath of air. The tar bubbled in the entryway, threatening at any moment to boil over and start to creep after him again, stain his new life and anyone he came in contact with. He knew he had to close the door, but he couldn’t. He never could despite how hard he tried. Sitting in this strange void, Angel Dust’s mind drifted back to reality; the echo of the tar squelching still in his ears. 

After sleeping off his high and his emotions, he woke up upside down in his bed. With no clue how long he had been asleep. Time didn’t matter down here anyway, who cares how long he did nothing for?

So he had slinked off to the bar, only to find it empty.

With a shrug, the arachnid hopped over the counter and dug around, finding a few stashes of the good liquor Husk tucked away. “Hah! Ya can’t hide yer stash from _ me, _ I know all the good hidin’ places!” Angel Dust _ was _the go-to for hiding drugs anyway. “Ah, Huskie, ya never will learn.” 

He turned, bottle clasped in his gloved hand, and found his way to one of the sofas in the lobby. There, he started to drink as he absentmindedly flipped through a few channels.

That’s when he heard the sound of feet coming down the staircase, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw _ her _ . All puffy-eyed and miserable looking. _ Ugh. _He hadn’t seen Smiles since they spoke, and although he hadn’t exactly been out and about, the Radio Demon was a loud fucker. 

His eyebrows raised, but he actually felt a twinge of relief. She must have taken his advice after all if he was gone and she had… gotten herself a new pet. That weird lizard was nowhere near as cute as Fat Nuggets but hey, everyone had different tastes. The gal looked determined as hell though, like she was on a mission.

“Heya, toots!” He waved. “Seems to me ya finally found some sense!” 

You paused in your steps, the butcher’s knife still in hand and Critter crawling after you. “You just had me run a marathon looking for you.” You were completely out of breath, and you were willing to bet that anyone who walked the entirety of a hotel would be. Maybe you were getting out of shape. Was that a thing down here? 

As you finished walking down the flight of stairs, you took in the sight of the drinking arachnid, resting a hand on your hip. “And yeah, I _ have _.” You inspected the blade carefully— and honestly? It probably looked like you were about to stab him. You probably would have if you were actually angry with him. Maybe you still were. But that wasn’t entirely your problem, was it? No, you knew your problem, and he wasn’t worth your time. 

If you weren’t full of adrenaline and determination based on your decision, you probably would have even thrown the knife at him. But you weren’t, exactly, in the clearest state of mind. 

Angel made a blank face at the knife in your hand, he had seen you wielding weapons before, so he wasn’t the least bit threatened. “What’s the knife for? You fixin’ to fight someone? Try not to get yourself hurt this time, huh?” 

“I _ could _stab you,” You shot back. Payback for not only what he did, but because you still needed to get back at him for nearly gutting you that one time. Ah, memories. 

“You’re lucky this time. I’m going to find Alastor.” 

Angel’s expression hardened and he sat up. “Yer kiddin’ me.” He gawked. “Yer actually goin’ after him? Didn’t ya guys _ just _ break up or whatever? That's why he ain’t here, ain’t it?” 

You took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. “Yes.” Your response was slightly clipped. You could still be annoyed, right? 

“Listen,” coming over to him and rounding the couch, you fell onto it and gingerly placed the knife onto the end table. You turned to face him then. “I made a mistake.” You explained softly. “I know you were trying to help me, Angel, but I don’t think your story applies to me, truthfully.” You had a lot of time to think, afterall. 

You leaned against the back of the couch. “I think it applies to you, because it’s _ your _story.”

Angel looked surprised, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before he barked out a loud, over-exaggerated laugh. “Me!?” He pointed to himself with a thumb. You met him with a raised eyebrow.

“Ha! Ya think that story was about _ me _? It had nuthin’ to do with me, toots. I was just tryin’ to spread some wisdom.” He stopped his laughing, his voice darkening as well. “... Wisdom you clearly ain’t gonna listen to.” 

“Uh, no, actually, I _ did _ listen to you.” You leaned forward. 

“I listened to you too well, actually. Because your _ words _made my mind go nuts searching and dismissing answers that I always knew, but couldn’t believe. Because that’s the problem with me, Ang.” You looked away for a moment, before turning your attention to your thumbs in which you twiddled absentmindedly. 

“I don’t remember my past like you might. All of these lessons and pieces of wisdom you’re sharing with me are things I should remember already. I experienced these all in my past life, I’m sure I have! But I just… can’t remember.” Amnesia sucked _ ass. _“I’m re-experiencing them at my own pace, and even if it might hurt me in the end, I need to relearn it myself.” You looked up to him with a small, sad smile. 

You continued on: “I’m sorry about what Anthony went through. But I don’t think Alastor is like the boss. I saw how hurt he was with my own eyes, I experienced it _ myself.” _You tried to accentuate that fact through your tone. “Maybe one day I’ll wisen up in regards to the relationship, but I don't want to listen to that little voice in my head anymore.” 

You took in a sharp breath. “If I continue, it’s just going to push everyone else away, too.”

Angel watched you for a long while, before he also took in a deep breath and sighed, standing up and looking over you. You were an innocent little shit, that much was obvious. A good-natured person who didn’t understand what she was getting into. Even now. But Angel shrugged, passing you the bottle of hard liquor. You caught it and made a face.

“Fine. Be that way. It’s yer mistake to make toots!” He sang as he brushed past, starting to head towards the stairs. 

You held the bottle of liquor for a second, before placing it next to the knife. “Angel, wait-“ you turned around and began to walk towards him.

He paused, looking over his shoulder at you. He looked tired and felt like he had wasted his time and emotions on you. You wouldn’t listen to reason, even if all the flags were obvious to him. It was the same as so many other girls he’d seen- always excusing the shit and coming back. It was what he struggled with every day. “_What._”

He narrowed his eyes as you came closer, and then you fuckin’ _ wrapped _your arms around him. 

Angel went rigid, freezing up at the unfamiliar sensation. The only other to ever hug him like this was Molly. He almost didn’t know what to do, one set of his arms pinned under yours, the others frozen in place. He looked down at you, seeing the stubborn look on your face still. 

He rolled his eyes. “Lemme go.”

“No, shut up.” You blurted. “You need a hug. I need a hug. We’re both hugging.” If he really wanted you off, he could pry you off. And then you looked up at him: “Thanks. For trying.”

He met your eyes and closed his own, letting out a breath through his nose, and his upper set of arms wrapped back around you, giving you a tight hug in return. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” his voice was low when he spoke your name. 

But he didn’t pry you off. In fact, the two of you remained there for a long moment wrapped in a platonic pile of limbs. You remained quiet for a long minute, before you unraveled your arms from him and offered him a silly smile. “I know what webs I weave.” You laughed. 

“Messy ones.” He snorted, looking down at the gator at your feet with a look of disdain. “And what the fuck is that thing!? It better not even go _ near _Fat ‘Nug’s.”

You looked down to Critter then. “His name is Critter. He’s a Uh…” Fuck, what’s the word again? “Just… Critter. Just call him Critter.” 

He sneered down at it. “Well tell _ Critter _ that Fat Nuggets is _ not _on the menu. Or else.” Angel Dust crossed you again to pick up his pet pig, who was sitting comfortably on the couch. You had barely even noticed him. “I don’t trust that little fucker, come on Fat Nuggets~ Daddy will carry you.” 

“I don’t control him.” You stated, offering Angel a wink before looking at the front door. “I should… probably get going, though.”

“... I know yer memory is shit an all… but just remember. This is the only safe place in Hell you know, there ain’t anywhere else to go if shit goes sour with him.” A final warning, Angel’s eyes gazing at the door himself with a conflicted look. The urge to return, the fear of someone coming in after him, was all represented in a single entryway.

“You too.” You offered lightly, carefully, before making you way towards the door. “C’mon, Critter.” Steeling a breath, you opened it, and let yourself out. 

Thankfully enough, it was pretty damn bright out still. You had time left in the day to at least start your search, and despite your rational side wanting to remain safe; the desire to see him again, the desire to feel his arms around you, to feel the safety that he brought you— the safety that you had thought was for naught, was far stronger. 

It was also rather… busy outside, so, picking Critter up, you held him close to your body for your own comfort, and his own safety. He couldn’t do much other than rip a finger or three off. There were a few demons, on the corners, on the streets; but mostly, they didn’t seem to really give a shit about you or your pet. At the very least, that offered you some relief. Still, you were a bit paranoid. 

And you were incredibly nervous.

The one thing you were thankful for, though, was that the swamp was incredibly close to the hotel. 

Upon moving towards the edge of it, you slowly placed Critter down into the muddy grass. It was cold out, and probably stupid to walk in knee-high water when you could easily catch hypothermia. But it wasn’t like you weren’t someone to make stupid and rash decisions before, right? 

“You ready, bud?” You took in a deep breath, looking down at the alligator next to you. 

Critter looked up at the Small Big One. He liked you, and wherever you were gonna go, Critter was gonna follow. He took a few small steps forward, inching himself towards the cool water. Yeah. Critter was ready. He was _ always _ready. He was gonna be a good boy. 

“Okay, better now than never.” You steeled yourself, and walked down the smaller slope and stepped into the water. It took a moment for the water to penetrate the covering of your shoes and socks, but god _ damn _was it cold. You hissed out, clenching your fists tightly at your sides. His house better be close. You took another step, and then another, as you waded through the swamp. Your pants were wet and muddy now, your shoes getting stuck in the mud and clinging to you with each step you took. 

But you managed to continue on. You had to. Thankfully, the water didn’t reach your waist, but you supposed that was because you were getting lucky with where you were stepping. There were birds tweeting, frogs croaking, and the sound of the wind didn’t help your efforts to ease your nerves. The trees were especially haunting, with how their shadows cascaded and silhouetted over each other.

You were only a few steps in and you were already freezing your god damn, _ fucking _ ass off. 

The sound of splashing alerted you that Critter was still nearby you, so you weren’t necessarily alone. But you were still… alone. He couldn’t do much other than offer you comfort. Whatever comfort a numerable eyed alligator could. You felt nervous down to your core, and you were beginning to wonder if this was all a good idea. _ Keep going, _ you told yourself, _ gotta find the light. _Your eyes began to search through the trees as you continued on. 

You had to keep going. 

You were filled with the worries of whether or not he would even forgive you. The mud was sinking into your shoes now, and you let out an aggrieved sigh as your legs began to grow numb from the cold. And then, your shoe got caught on a branch or something underneath the water that was too murky for you to see, and now you had swamp water in your mouth. And you were completely and utterly drenched. 

“Agh! Gross—!” You spat it out, bringing your hands up from out of the water and instinctively rubbed the water away from your eyes. But your hands had mud on them. And now you had mud on your face. Your face contorted and you released a loud huff. 

So much for getting there and in a manner that looked _ good, _you looked like a damn swamp monster. “You are so lucky you don’t need to wear clothes,” you looked behind you to look at Critter who was now effortlessly floating. He looked like a log. With eyes. An eyed-log. That made no sense. You were so dumb, this was so dumb. Everything in this world was dumb. Pushing yourself up, you finally kept moving forward.

The water was freezing, you were drenched and your clothes clung to you, stricken with mud and moss and other… stuff. But you weren’t going to give up, even though the thought of being greeted by the warmth of the hotel and your warm, soft bed… You would not turn back! You couldn’t. You would struggle through this swamp for the rest of eternity if it meant that you’d have a chance to look at him one last time. 

There were so many damn _ trees _, though! So many reeds that made it incredibly difficult to see. How were you supposed to see a damn light if you couldn’t see five feet in front of you? Your heart thrummed in your chest as you continued forward. It would be so easy to get turned around, and honestly, you weren’t even sure if you were going in the right direction anymore. Your breath was visible through the small pants you were releasing; your body subconsciously shivering to keep whatever warmth you could muster. 

An uncomfortable noise left you as you bit your muddy lip, continuing to push through the thick reeds with a persistence only someone who knew they fucked up and needed to amend their mistakes could. Even as the swamp’s water deepened. the dampness now over your chest. 

And that water only grew thicker until you were practically moving through straight-up mud. Great. “Critter—” you looked down to your side then, because he was the only one that you could see and offer you any comfort he could. He was practically at eye level with you. 

“I… I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t even _ see.” _You were covered in mud, and muck, and all sorts of gross stuff. And there were tall trees and reeds and thick sludge surrounding you. You wanted out.

Critter moved easily over to you. There were a few memories of this place. It wasn’t as warm or as nice where he was used to, but he had a plausible idea, perhaps, on where you wanted to go. He saw how your Small Big body was sticking into the mud and how your long limbs were slowing down. 

He moved easily over to you and stuck his snout on your snout. He let out a churr, a light rumbling sound, and then turned around and began moving front of you. He was able to slither through the thickness of the reeds through the thin layer of water on top of them without much effort. He looked behind him to make sure you were still there, and let out a coo. 

He would take you where you wanted to be.

Did… he actually understand you? You blinked. Maybe he could smell him or… something. Alastor had him before. You could hope your damndest that he had some inclination of where he was going, and you honestly couldn’t believe you were resting your life on a little alligator. 

But you were acting as if crazier things hadn’t happened. Through the muck, you let out a heavy sigh and began to move again, wading through the thickness to follow him. You could do this. The two of you could do this. And like hell you were going to give up when you were shoulder-height in dirt and guck. Although, you couldn’t help but start to wonder how the hell tiny little Niffty could ever have made it out here.

Critter did his best to stay by your head. His many eyes could see where you both were going better than your measly two could. He needed to help his Small Big One. He kept churring, that light purr that rumbled in his young chest to offer you comfort, or perhaps another way of following him. Your arms were so covered in mud that your skin could barely be seen. He could feel how you were struggling by bending the reeds in the mud so you could move through them. It rippled up from beneath, tickling his scutes. 

He chirped out at you. It was only a bit more, then the water was gonna be better for his Small Big One. 

You could do this. You could do this. You needed to do this. You kept telling yourself that with each step you took, following blindly the chirping and cooing of the small alligator. And then, finally, _ finally, _the thickness began to ebb away and the reeds began to thin. Parting them, step after step, you nearly cried in relief at the sight of a silhouette in the distance. You could see not just the trees and more reeds and water, but you could see a light. The light was connected to a pole, out there. On a porch. The porch was connected to a cabin of sorts. 

A log cabin was in front of you. Oh my god. A log _ cabin. _ Thank _ Lucifer. _You nearly wanted to cry in relief at the sight of solid terrain. You could see the roughly sanded bark and the cut out joints in the end that connected each log to the other. It didn’t seem ostentatiously large, but it wasn’t the smallest home you had seen. The wood was darker than what you were used to, but this was Hell after all. The tin roof looked a little worse for wear, but still in good shape. It was a modest little cabin in a swamp. Though you had no room to judge when you were coated in five feet of mud from every angle. 

Head to toe.

“Critter!” You gasped out. “Good boy!” You were so out of breath.

A sense of determination and relief flooded through you then, and you pushed yourself to the last stretch. Step after muddy step, you trudged through the swamps terrain. You were so close, you were at the finishing line, the last stretch, the—!

Large angry jaws snapped by your ear, and a hissing noise which was incredibly unwelcoming filled your immediate surroundings. 

You spun around so quick that you probably would have given yourself whiplash if you had gone any quicker. 

“Holy _ SHIT_!” You fell back in a large splash of water; not that it mattered because it was the least of your worries.

There was now a really fucking _ big _ alligator with… thousands of eyes. A bigger Critter. Did Critter just Pokemon evolve? “What the fuck— what the _ fuck_!” You desperately tried to get up then and run through the water, uselessly. Oh god, oh, god. Critter was a few feet in front of you then. So it wasn’t Critter. 

Of course Alastor had bigger alligators in the swamp. 

“_Critter!_” This was it, this was the end. You braced yourself.

And then time seemed to slow as Critter blinked and turned around. Oh, he saw his momma! And he also saw his Small Big One! Critter’s family! He chirped happily and swam easily over to you, surrounding your head and cooing at his mother. In his own tongue, he was talking to his momma.

_ “Momma, this is little big ‘un. She’s a good ‘un momma!” _ He pressed his muzzle into your cheek. 

You were going to have a fucking conniption. Your chest was heaving as you stopped in your attempted, useless retreat. This was it. You were going to die a second time. Was there a double Hell? You hadn’t realized that the big fucker was Critter’s parent yet, and you began to pat down your pants once you remembered Vaggie’s knife. Oh fuck. You forgot it. You were going to die. Oh my god. And now there were two. 

There were _ TWO! _Slowly, you began to move backwards, closer and closer to the cabin. 

If you could get up there, you could escape this stupid swamp.

_ “What’s this peasant doing in Alastor’s swamp, little one?” _

It was a good thing the only one who could understand their strange tongue was indeed, Alastor. Alligator speech sounded mostly like a hiss; underlying differences in pitch and intonation that gave way to words. Georgina eyed you warily with her many eyes. 

She saw you had her little one with you, but, of course, that would only mean she would eat you alone. 

Her mate swam closer to her. There was no threat that together they couldn’t devour. George was a force to be reckoned with and fiercely protective of their master. 

_ “Oh, she’s a friend I think. She don’t know the easy way in though. She’s a bit slow, but she tries!” _ Critter chirped happily next to your ear as he looked at his parents. He couldn’t wait to grow up and be that big and fierce! Just like his Papa and the BIG Big One. 

During all of this, you were about to go hysterical. 

_ “Very well then. She doesn’t seem like much of a threat. Take her the easy way next time.” _ Georgina and her mate slid backwards through the water, clearing the way for you and their son. 

Your jaw dropped. Did this little alligator just… protect you? “What.” You blanked.

“What just happened?” Were they coming back? You looked to Critter then who was swimming happily around you in the shallows, and the retreating forms of the bigger fuckers. You let out a laugh of disbelief then, and then you brought your hands up to grab at the smol boy and held him close to you. “I don’t know if you understand me,” you looked back to the cabin that now was completely free of terrifying alligators, “but thank you.” And then you set him back down into the water. 

Slowly, you began to wade through the water again, until you reached solid ground. You nearly cried in happiness at the feeling. Thank god. “Sweet, sweet grass.” You probably would have laid there, too, if you didn’t have a mission to complete. The cabin was a lot more intimidating up close, and you found yourself at a loss for what to do. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get this far. Slowly, you laid a muddied hand on the bannister and began to walk up the stairs. 

No amount of preparation would ever make you ready for this.

The door was unlocked. You had originally contemplated knocking, but then remembered that this was Hell and no one gave a shit about breaking and entering. Except, you were just entering. You had already broken something. His heart, and in doing so, your own. When you pushed on the door, it creaked open. You were immediately greeted with a room full of, wall to wall, taxidermied deer heads. There was a rifle on one wall; and the room was full of old antiqued yet fanciful furniture. 

You let out a sigh, and took a deep breath. It all smelled like him. 

Was that weird? You didn’t care. 

It was a style you were used to seeing. There were varying shades of red and carefully carved furniture all around the place. Everything had pillows and blankets draped carefully over an arm or the back of a chaise. You wearily entered, now very aware of just how muddy and dirty you were compared to the cleanly appearance of Alastor’s home. 

You did your best to side step the rug, but it was of no use, you were dripping chunks of mud and water everywhere, Niffty would be so disappointed in you- but it didn’t matter. You needed to find him. 

There was a kitchen that was quiet. He wasn’t in there. He wasn’t in the living room, or… what you supposed that room was. There was a bathroom. Not in there. A study with a desk and a chair. He wasn’t in there. There were probably more things in there, but once you saw that he wasn’t present, you closed the door. Next you found a library that was wall to wall covered in books. But everything still smelled like him, and while the library did pique your interest, the scent reminded you of your goal. Him. You needed to find him.

It was only when you walked down a hallway did you find a room with a door that was slightly ajar. It was dark, but once you pushed it open too, despite leaving a muddied print on it that, thankfully, was just flakes now as the mud began to dry uncomfortably on your hand, enough light was shown to show a bedroom. Your eyes immediately fell upon a sleeping form, familiar in all ways, and it made your heart squeeze and your eyes begin to water.

All of the emotions that had been ushered away by adrenaline became rushing in all at once, and honestly, it was incredibly overwhelming. You stood in that doorway for what could have been minutes or hours, you weren’t sure. Every word that could have been prepared fled from your mind as you were met with the choice of a lifetime. You looked like a mess. You felt like a mess. You were a mess. Without him, you would always be a mess. 

You took one hesitant step and then another before stopping. You were afraid that he would awaken and flip out on you; or he would do the worst thing that you could ever face: reject you. It was what caused you to reach out a hand, before retreating it away. You hesitated. “... Al?” 

Your voice was quiet as you stood there, uselessly, unsure of what to do and how to do it.

There it was again. He had been hearing it on loop for what seemed like decades. Every now and again your voice would force its way through his dreams, slowly morphing his visions into nightmares. He let out a deep growl. He was so tired of this. He didn’t want to hear your voice, not now. 

At the sound, you nearly took a step back but managed to root yourself to the ground so you didn’t. Your chest felt so tight, your stomach doing flips and somersaults as you dared yourself to take a step closer, and then another, before you stopped just at the edge of where he slept so you were directly next to him. You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel him, you wanted to be with him. And perhaps it was a bit stupid to not care about whether or not this would have repercussions, because you were pretty damn sure he could take your whole hand off if he wanted to, but you were nothing without him. 

You couldn’t do it without him. “Alastor.” A bit louder then, but still soft. 

He felt so withered and worn. This was not the time for fanciful hallucinations. He rolled over onto his side, his pillow clutched to his chest. His eyes opened and immediately zeroed in on the form in front of his eyes. 

“This is a new one. Go on and be on your way. She wouldn’t come here.” It was best to face your fears directly. He was not one to back down from a fight, even if it meant he was going to fight himself. He was slightly surprised that his mind has draped you in mud, but perhaps it was because his image of you had been tarnished. Regardless. 

“You don’t belong here, spector.” He murmured, turning away from you. 

He didn’t believe you were real. Honestly, you didn’t blame him. You didn’t feel real. Everything felt surreal, as if you were living in a fever dream. You blinked, watching him turn away from you. You weren’t sure what to say or do; so you swallowed your fears and decency and reached out to place your hand gently on his shoulder. 

“I… I’m here.” You choked out at last, a thousand of different other responses and comments buzzed through your mind, but you settled on the simplest one. Your touch was feather-light, as you were prepared to yank your arm back if he decided to go on the offense.

His body recoiled from your touch violently and he let out a hiss that was similar to what you had heard outside. “I told you to stop. I know you’re here to haunt me, but there’s no need. I have learned my lesson. Evil creatures such as I don’t receive love.” He sat up suddenly, angry. This was a very convincing image, however strange and muddy it may have been. But it wasn’t you.

This was Hell, _ real _ Hell, where all your mistakes and fears came back to torment you. “Such emotions aren’t allotted for demons like me.” 

He was such a drama queen. You had just walked through a damn swamp to get to him, you had gone through the literal week of hell to figure out your own emotions. “Pinch yourself.” You said lightly. He could see if you were a dream then. 

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I’ve been slaughtered by your image consistently throughout my slumber, and you think-”

“Just pinch yourself.” 

He rolled his eyes and brought his fingers to his arm, pinching down. “It’s not my own existence I’m doubting you foolish creature. _ Get out _. She wouldn’t come here for me, not after all of that chaos I brought on her. She would have to be a true fool to seek me out here.” He pushed himself up further, smiling grimly down at you. 

Oh, how you missed him. You rolled your own eyes, before leaning closer to him. “You blubbering idiot! Then, if she wasn’t here, she wouldn’t be able to touch you. So,” you raised your hand, reaching out to him. He was an idiot. You hoped he would be your idiot, though. If he called you a fool, you could call him an idiot. No shame. 

Fair game. Equivalent exchange. 

“This truly is a very convincing likeness.” He leaned forward a bit, placing his hand on the side of your face, brushing away some of the mud that had dried. “I’d imagine she would take my rifle off the wall and shoot something on accident. She’s very clumsy.” He looked down at your raised hand then. You could feel the static lap at your skin.

“And if this muddy monstrosity were to touch me, I would bite their hand off. Now then.” His touch hardened around your features, nails _ threatening _ to puncture your cheeks. “Why are you here, whoever you are?”

You laughed. You actually _ laughed. _Because it was really him, and even though he was beginning to hurt you, you didn’t give a shit because you found him and you loved him, and he was here. “Sorry, I didn’t want to use your shower before coming to find you.” You half-joked, because you probably should have considered how dirty you were, and the fact that you probably wouldn’t want a stranger in your shower either. 

Common courtesy, man. 

But you weren’t scared of him anymore,_ couldn’t _be scared of him, even though there was a real threat of him actually tearing your face off. Okay, maybe you were a little bit scared. You didn’t come all the way here just to fuck this up, though.

You laughed in his face. He felt his ears twitching at the sound. In all of his nightmares he hadn’t been able to hear such a sound. His hand started to tremble around your face as his grip loosened and eventually dropped altogether. You were here. You were real. You had trudged through his swamp to come see him. 

“Darling woman, what are you doing here?” His hand fell to his lap and he pushed himself away from you. 

“You didn’t need to come here,” He said your name so lowly. He felt his chest start to tighten. “You didn’t… what is this?” His voice had lost all bravado, and he was pulling back into his pillows, the bed creaking beneath his weight. “Why are you here?” He couldn’t take much more of this feeling. It felt so uncomfortable, like his skin was burning.

Your heart was doing flips, your stomach clenching. Your own bravery faltered when his did; for it had mostly been an unintentional stand-off until then. Both of you were usually unwilling to give in, too stubborn for your own good. Your mouth parted, remaining open for a second as you watched him move back, before you snapped your jaw shut. 

All of the annoyance you were beginning to feel, faded away. You needed to make the move, to end this standstill.

“Because I think I’m… beginning to figure myself out, and I...” You hesitated. “I don’t really think I can do it alone.” You couldn’t bear to take your eyes off of him, scared that he would leave you again too if you did stop looking at him. “I began to figure out, though, that I don’t need to listen to others to find the truth; that I should keep my hopes alive, and that I should listen to my heart more than my mind.” Your voice cracked. 

“I don’t care what it costs me, and even if my mistakes already have cost our relationship forever, you deserved to know, um,” you messed with the hem of your wet shirt. “That I… love you too.” You could barely see him through your own foggy vision, silent, fat tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. 

He blinked at you as that same uncomfortable warmth filled his cheeks and made his eyes burn. “How long have I been asleep?” It was softly spoken and he was eerily still as he watched your emotions spill over your eyes. 

You sniffled. “Um, a… week?” You shrugged. “I don’t know when you fell asleep, but it’s been a week since you left.” you took a step closer so that you were pressed against the side of the bed. Your dirty palms laid against his clean sheets. “I think.” Honestly, you lost track of time, too. But then you noticed through your own blearly gaze that he was starting to… appear emotional as well. With the reddened cheeks, and how his already red eyes glistened with the promise of an onslaught of tears. 

“I-I’m sorry…”

He let out a shaky laugh, but it became so hurried, so loud it was hurting his own ears. His claws sank into his blankets as he tried to find footing in this moment. Soon enough he realized he wasn’t laughing, he was trying to breathe. His words weren’t coming out right because they weren’t coming out at all. He was staring at you lost, scared, confused, hurt, all the things he had been dreaming about, the nightmares that had plagued him, everything came crashing down as now was the moment you decided to tell him you loved him. 

Right after you broke him. 

He didn’t know what to feel. “You chose to do this now?” It came out as a wail, his smile was now only on his face as a default, but he didn’t even notice the tears pouring over his cheeks. “One _ week _, to figure yourself out, my my, what a turn around!?” He felt like he had finally lost his wits.

None of his thoughts were coming out right, he didn’t realize that some of them were actually leaving his lips in a coherent manner. One week was enough to figure yourself out, but you were unable to do so when presented with himself. You had been able to finally tell yourself that you loved him, and found yourself. He thought you were lying. 

He didn’t know what was happening around him, but this was the worst nightmare of all he had. And he was positive it was real.

Even he wouldn’t be able to concoct such torture. 

It felt like a suckerpunch to the gut, but knowing you could not voice the thoughts that were trying to appease his own words, you climbed onto the bed. Muddy appearance and all, you sat on your knees for a second. And then, once you crawled close enough, you swallowed your fear, because you were willing to swallow rationality and the fear of being hurt in the face of love. 

And then you sat up and attached yourself to him, your arms curling around his shoulders as you placed your head next to his. He had a very clear advantage here, if he so wanted to hurt you, as he could rip out your neck without a second thought. But you were willing to offer him that vulnerability, because you needed to show him that you trusted him.

It was the only thing you could think of to do.

“I made a lot of mistakes, and I’ll continue to make… a lot more.” You held onto him, “but my biggest mistake,” you leaned back then to look him in the eyes, unraveling one of your arms from around his shoulders to hesitantly reach out in an attempt to rest your hand against his cheek. You sniffled, pathetically. “My biggest mistake was not trusting you.” You laughed through your tears; but it was a laugh of relief of finding him, fear that he would reject you still. 

Anxiety-riddled.

Alastor gripped onto your body and pressed his face into your neck. “How could you do this to me?” He was so lost and conflicted now in his own feelings, his body so tense.

He was thrilled that you were actually here and you had found your feelings for him at last. But he was terrified of the repercussions of this, and how fast and unstable your emotions seemed to be when it came to others. How was he supposed to believe what you were saying, that this wasn’t just a stepping stone to more of your emotions breaking him down?

He was not used to this in any way, shape, or form. 

He was sobbing into you, his body shaking and form trembling. He couldn’t hold enough of you at once. He didn’t care about the mud or the water. “_ Why _ did you listen to him, I would never be able to fake this with you! I gave you _ everything _ I could!” He couldn’t breathe. 

Guilt was eating away at your sins. Your mistakes. Everything that you had thought back on for the past week; all of the things that you had done to ruin your relationship. His heart. “I know, I know, I’m sorry but Al, I- I need you to breathe for me,” you said softly, and even though you wanted nothing more than to bury your head into his chest, you knew that if you lost yourself, you probably wouldn’t get out of this alive. Because you were just a bottle of emotions. You tried to push him gently back so that you could look at him. 

“F-follow my breathing, okay?” You took in a deep, shaky breath, and then exhaled it. You were a mess too, god damn it, and you felt horrible.

“I _ can’t _.” He was gulping in air and everything was too much. This was all so overstimulating. There were too many sensations all at once and he was quite literally drowning in them. He tried to slow down his breathing, but he couldn’t focus on anything. He wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You tried, softly, your breath labored as you tried to get a hold of yourself because you were close to breaking down, too. “Please.” You placed your hands gingerly on each side of his face. You weren’t sure what to do.

His eyes opened, but his vision was blurry. He took another deep quivering breath and tried to focus on the feeling of your hands on his cheeks and the dried mud that was now flaking onto his own skin. His hands fell from where they were on you to grip your wrists in his hands, his mind finally focusing on your face and your touch. His breath was still uneven and far too heavy, but he could see you. He could feel you. 

When he looked at you, a wave of emotion befell you. Leaning in, you rested your forehead on his own, a shaky breath leaving you. You had done things you didn’t want to think about, you didn’t want to think of the mistakes you made. You just wanted him, for all he was, his flaws and all. 

“Just breathe.” You led, breathing in and trying to calm him, and in doing so, you began to do so for yourself. 

He felt your breath on his face. Your words were meeting his ears and his mind. Everything was happening much slower than he was used to. He squeezed your wrists but tried to be mindful of how delicate you were. He nodded along with your words when they registered. His chest was heaving and he shifted his focus to that, trying on slowing himself down. He could feel your forehead on his. He could still feel your touch and hear your words. 

He pressed his head harder into yours, trying to reassure himself that you were here and actually real. 

There were so many things you could say, but none of them reached you in time for you to release them. But you were done listening to those wicked thoughts. “I’m here,” you murmured, before you pushed back against his forehead to make such a statement known. “And I’m not leaving.” You leaned back then for you to tilt your head up so that you could press your lips to his forehead. They lingered for so long, before you leaned back to look up at him. 

“Not unless you want me to.”

“_Please_.” Alastor wasn’t above begging anymore, not when it came to you. 

His breath was finally slowing. “Please only say it if you mean it, I can’t take it anymore.” His thumbs were shakily rubbing your pulse point, even though you were both dead, your hearts were still beating as one. 

“Alastor,” you addressed him, “I only want to tell you the truth—“

“And I will accept nothing less. I can’t handle any false pretences. I _ need _ to know.” He felt so tired, shaky. His eyes slipped shut again as his breath slowed further, his thoughts slowing down with them. “If you don’t mean it, I need you to leave immediately and never look back. If I have you now, I’m never letting you go again, you will be mine, entirely.” He felt weak. He didn’t care anymore.

“I need this, I need _ you_, my darling. I can’t live through this twice.” 

You smiled weakly, your thumbs caressing his cheeks before you leaned in and pressed a deep and longing, sweet kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, just enough to hover your lips over his, your nose just next to his, you offered him your truth: “I am hopelessly and utterly in love with you.” You murmured. “I am yours.”

“Oh, darling.” He muttered weakly into you, his arms extending to fold you into his body. His heart was still raging within his ribs, but his breath had slowed enough. He let his weight lean into you fully, uncaring of your own comfort, for he just wanted his own solace that he could receive from you in the moment. 

“I certainly hope so.” He couldn’t help the doubt in his statement, but he would do his best to remain honest with you and himself. 

He was wary of this now. But he found comfort in your touch. “Please, I need you to be honest. I hope with everything I have left, that your words are only spoken with truth.” He had laid you backwards some, his head resting above your heart. He was eagerly listening to the thump and rhythm, trying to ease his own. “I want to keep you.” He murmured, rubbing his cheek above your sternum, smearing more dried mud across his cheek. “Let me keep you.” He would have to hold onto his own hope. 

And he would, until he could trust you again. 

“I’m yours, always.” you repeated, reassuring him. “But I— you… you _ do _ want me back, right?” You needed reassurance, too.

“I have never _ stopped _ wanting you. And now I _ know _ I am incapable of feeling any other way. I will always love you, and need you. And more than any of that, I will _ always _ want you.” He was sure of his own feelings for you more than ever. But he needed you to feel the same. 

You reached up and ran your fingers through his thick tresses. God, his hair was so fluffy. You missed him. With a heavy release of a breath, you brought your face to his head and pressed a heavy, emotion-riddled kiss into his fluffy hair. “I need you too.” You murmured. You had always been emotional, which was why, now that he was calm, you were finally able to release your own tears of emotion and relief. “I need you.” You whispered, sniffling.

“And I need you.” He repeated, his voice a soft murmur now as he felt like he had been drained of everything he had left. 

“Will you be here when I wake up, or will you disappear into the mist?”

“I’ll be here.” You whispered. “I’ll be here every day you wake up.”

“_Promise _ me.” He would have never demanded such a thing earlier on. But now it was the only way he would be able to fall asleep. 

You finally let your head rest against the pillow as you continued your ministrations to his hair. “I promise.” 

He nodded against your chest. And for the first time he realised something. _ You _ were his hope, and without you beside him, he had lost it completely. But while he finally settled into a comfortable rest, he felt it once more. He would try again with you a thousand times if he needed to, just to keep that light in his chest. Although, he really hoped that he wouldn’t need to go to such extremes. And Alastor was not usually a man of faith. 

But he had some in you. And this time he was hopeful you would keep it safe for him. With that, he was able to fall asleep against you, resting on you, finally at peace. 

With the odds of the world stacked against the two of you, you had both gone through the wringer to reunite. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity away, and the worst week of your damn life…

You were _ home._


	57. Bathtime Buddies

Your thoughts, which had once been so haunted by the loss of _him, _had caused your dreams to be recalled in the most macabre of manners. Once they had been cryptic, misconstrued in a carousel of your never ending reflections and wallowing self-pity. Night terrors that continued on throughout the entirety of the day, and thereafter. But now you were here in his arms, and you were swept up in a land of peace and finally- with this tranquility, you could sleep. 

Sleep hadn’t come easily at first, at least, not as easily as it did for him when he basically passed out after reuniting with you, but it did follow shortly after. It was a bit uncomfortable to get into a position where you weren’t reminded that you were caked in dry mud and dirt; but it was inevitable that the mess would make your time in bed a little less… appealing than it could have been otherwise. At the very least, the natural warmth that was emitted from both of your bodies as you clung together was comforting. 

_ Comfort _ . 

He offered you comfort in this moment, and you did the same. The sensation was warm, fuzzy even, a satisfying understanding that you were safe, in a sense. It was pure and thoughtless, it manifested a raw emotion of sincere relief. A beautiful feeling spurred on by the tranquility of the moment, and one that you never wanted to end. 

When your consciousness acknowledged you in a groggy manner, you blinked your eyes open and were greeted by the sight and feeling of the texture of his clothes, the firmness of his chest; your head beneath his chin and one of your arms draped over him, while the other tightly clenched his shirt. You were afraid of losing him again, and in the anxieties of your equally anxious dreams, you had held onto him as tightly as you could. 

You didn’t let up even when your wits began to return to you, and didn’t cease long after. 

He was really here.  _ You  _ were here. It had all been real and not some sort of fever dream your mind had concocted. But you didn’t move,  _ couldn’t  _ move, your head still nestled beneath his as you stared out into the expanse of his room. You held onto him like your life depended on it. 

And in some truth, it did.

Alastor, however, wasn’t entirely sure what was happening when he finally woke. He had the most beautiful and yet at the same moment, completely terrifying dream he had had yet. There was a familiar warmth in his arms but there were voices in the very deepest parts of his mind whispering to him that it wasn’t you. But he was positive, surely, it had to be you.

He could smell the caked mud on your clothes, and feel the dryness and texture of that same mud on his sheets and pillows while he held you. That perception at the very least was real. 

He wearily opened his eyes, shining red onto your hair. He could see you clearly. Those familiar tresses, same skin, even your eyes. The same lovely color with hidden flecks in them. He eyed the shape of your body over his blankets. There was mud everywhere. It was the mud, in the end of his thoughts, that really told him you were real. You had actually traversed through his swamp to find him. Somehow you had even gotten past his gator guards without a scratch on you. 

He let out a content sigh and pulled you closer. 

It was all very surreal to him. Nightmares had been plaguing him since he had first gone to sleep, and now he had awoken to find you. He searched his mind briefly for a bit of information. If he was recalling correctly, it had taken you a week to come to your own conclusions. He wanted to hear about all of it. Every single detail. Whatever had brought you back to him, he needed to be well acquainted with that memory, or the slew of memories. 

He didn’t want to miss anything, not when it came to you. Not anymore.

You weren’t even aware that you had forgotten to blink until his movements pulled you out of your internal reverie. For the first time, you weren’t swarmed with thoughts of doubt for you had begun to kill the psychological demons that wreaked havoc in your mind. 

Was there doubt? Sure. There was. But you believed him. You had to believe him. It was a doubt that this was real. That you had gone through what you had gone through, and that he was your answer to all of this madness. How cruel it was, how sick, that you had begun to realize that he was both the cause of your overactive mind and the antidote. The one thing that you could not exist without, 

But if you had to take apart your brain and reassemble it, you would, for him. You would do it all for him. And in this moment, the one that you wanted to have last forever; here in his arms you did not desire anything else. When you were pulled tighter to him, you blinked away the burning sensation in your eyes and took in a deep inhale. Was he awake? 

You didn’t want to wake him if he needed to sleep; and it could have very well been a subconscious movement in his dreams. 

Slowly, you lifted your head from beneath his to peer at him curiously. Cautious, for you didn’t want to ruin the contented moment. When you were met with his red gaze, your breath stilled for a second. “You’re awake,” You confirmed. Your eyes were lidded, the sleep not quite escaping the hold it had over you. Following that, you hesitantly put your head back beneath his. “Hello.” A breathy murmur, and one that you probably would have found humorous if you had not been lost in a cascade of emotions.

_ Who says ‘hello’ in the morning?  _

“Good morning.” There it was, the correct response to noticing someone had stirred for their slumber. But Alastor did not seem to mind, as he continued on: “This  _ is _ real, correct? I’m not still dreaming?” The lack of confidence was new for him, but with how his world was shattered and hastily rebuilt, it was necessary for his own regrowth. It was strange and new and more than likely much needed for the both of you. This time the pair of you were on more equal terrain, and he could begin to understand what you had been through a bit more. Odd as it was.

Different, but still, there were strains of similarity that would run through this experience for you both, and it would still run to where you were now: Finding rest in each other’s arms, searching for the peace you both could find together, the peace that you two feared had been lost. 

For the second time, you untucked your head from beneath his to look at him. Your gaze was soft, still plagued by your sleep, but mostly for the sheer affection that you held for him. Bringing your hand up to his cheek, you gently traced the softness of his flesh. “No,” You murmured, before you leaned down to rub your nose against his in an eskimo kiss. A soft exhale was released as you felt him nod gingerly into the show of affection. 

He relished in the feeling on your touch, and it showed as he closed his eyes once more to you, a sure sign of vulnerability. 

“No, it’s not a dream. I’m here.” You reassured.

“I want to know everything that brought you back to me, darling. Spare no detail, I’d like to know all of it.” Plagued by sleep but no less just as sincere, his arms wound tighter around you, bringing you ever closer still. 

A creature of habit, perhaps, where Alastor merely acted instead of thinking through the possibilities of consequences. It was something that he needed to work on. His mind was extraordinarily fast, and oftentimes, his body was just slow to follow up with his thoughts. It wasn’t something that he could co-exist with any longer. 

He needed to find patience not only with himself, but for your sake as well. He needed to be able to change. He never wanted this to happen again. He would do his damnedest to keep it from ever coming to pass once more. 

_ Never again. _

“I’d love to,” you said softly, before you tried to push yourself up, which you doubted he would allow with how tightly he was holding onto you. Oh look, you guessed right. If you had looked up into his eyes, you would have seen how his pupils had skimmed into mere slits. His arms were similar to that or iron bars, locked in place, and after a moment, you gave up and collapsed into his chest again. 

He wasn’t letting you go.

You let out a sigh. “But I really have to get clean. Afterwards?” A hopeful smile. 

Alastor shook his head. “No. I… I cannot let you out of my sight quite yet.” He swallowed harshly, and you were a bit taken aback by the immediate panic that filled his voice. “Darling, I still lack the conviction that this is all happening. I can take care of your needs, if you wish.” 

This was still all too fresh. He had been asleep for a week while you had been working on yourself— The last real memory he had was stuffing that monster’s father into his microphone. Which reminded him that he should  _ probably _ let you know that he had met your mother at some point.

You were speechless for a second, before you released a soft giggle, your lips twisting into a small smile. You weren’t willing to fight with him for something so mundane, “Okay, okay.” Whatever he needed. You briefly wondered if he would just do the snappity thing again and you would just be magically clean. 

Nope.

He nodded and slowly removed his arms from you. He stood, his back cracking with the movement. You winced. He let out a sigh and stretched. Yes, this would do nicely. He rose and bent, taking you back into his arms, and immediately your arms raveled around his neck, clinging onto him just as he had with you. He carried you as if you were his bride, and honestly, you didn’t have any objections. He wasn’t going to waste such time with you. You deserved more personal care and he could offer you that. 

He strode into his bathroom proudly, kicking open the door with his foot. 

It was bath time. 

You were a bit dramatic, you wouldn’t lie. But you were allotted to a bit of it over the fact that you had missed him so fucking much. At last, your heart was finally able to relax from how fast it had been going for the past week. The anxiety without him near you. Your guilt. Your consequences you had to face. But for now, you would allow him whatever he wanted from you, because, to be honest, you enjoyed the clinginess. 

The affection he showed you and only you; perhaps it was a bit selfish, but you wanted him all to yourself. You didn’t  _ want  _ to share him. It felt like a lot longer than a week without him and like hell you were going to fuck up to that degree again. You still felt guilty, naturally. You remained silent as he carried you, trusting his decisions. 

You were tired of fighting with yourself and questioning every single thing. It was time to listen to your heart, for once. And you wanted to be with him,  _ his.  _ Wherever that may lead. You slowly unraveled your arms from around him and looked up at him curiously. 

“You’re going to have to let me down, silly.”

He released a heavy exhale. “I suppose you’re right.”

Alastor settled you down onto his vanity, taking note of how much mud fell off of you when he did. Now that he was standing over you, he could see you better. You truly were a mess. 

So much for having a normal resting heart rate, because suddenly your heart was going a million miles a minute again, and heat was beginning to form upon your cheeks as you watched his hands, nervously, meet the bottom of your shirt. 

“Will you allow me to take care of you?” He hated this shyness, this doubt that filled him. The lack of conviction in himself. It was so new and so very frustrating. He wanted it back. He wanted to trust himself and you again. But he knew it would come in time; He hoped it would at least. For now, he would try to focus on the present, and at the moment, you truly were in desperate need of a bath. 

You were glad for the mud on your face, and if the bath was hot enough, you could blame the extra color on the warmth of the room, and not because you were legitimately getting flustered over him. But this was something that reminded you of a memory early on, that you had. 

Where he had taken care of your injuries, sat you on the counter, and helped you without you asking. You brought your hands to his gently, and led them to get a firmer grasp on your shirt. “Yes,” you softly said. Very gently, you tapped your foot just below his knee. 

Did he remember? 

He nodded in response and slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt, shaking it slightly to get the majority of the dried mud off your form. Then, he turned his attention to your buttons and started slowly undoing your shirt, button by button. 

He shook his head softly. “You should have worn a coat. You could have frozen out there.” You had risked so much, but you needed to learn to take better care of yourself. When he got up to your collar and the little bow tie you wore, he quickly undid it, flinging the article off to the side.

You bit your lip at the reprimanding sentence. You were well aware that it was out of concern, but it didn’t make it any less harsh. “Sorry, slipped my mind.” You offered an apology in an effort to appease him. “It… wasn’t the most important thing at that moment, I guess.” Same with the knife. You wouldn’t comment on that; that would get you into more trouble than it was worth. 

You focused on neutralizing your heart rate. He had felt you before, but seeing you? Now, that was a completely different story!

“How did you get by George and Georgina?” He started combing his hands through your hair, dislodging the larger pieces of dried swamp. 

Your face twisted up in confusion before realization settled. “You named the alligators?” A scrunch of the eyebrows paired with a disbelieving laugh was enough to take your attention off of the nervousness building up in your gut.

A hoot of a laugh that only Alastor could provide met your ears. “Of course I named them. I raised them!” He clicked his tongue as he focused on your hair and reminisced about the past: “They were so young when I found them. Trained them up, and they and I have become very fond of each other. Besides they are much more effective than any hound you're able to find down here.” 

Preposterous, of course he had named them! They were his children! Why, when he had first found George he had been no longer than his forearm! He had fed them since they were just wee little babes. Now they were incredibly strong, fierce, and thriving. “So, how did you get by them, little sharkling?” 

“Critter.” You watched his expression for any sort of sign that he knew who you were talking about. 

You looked off to the side after a second, and winced slightly when his claw got stuck in a knot of your hair. “ _ Ow _ .” You huffed, holding back the desire to smack his hand away because  _ that shit hurted _ . “Be gentle!” You didn’t ask to have your hair knitted into a mess of mud. 

Actually, you did. This was all your fault, apparently. 

But you managed, and you eventually relaxed again. “I found a little alligator in your uh, swamp back at the hotel. He was attracted by all the treats you made.” You explained lightly enough, as you recalled all the details. 

“At first I thought he would eat me or something, but he was won over pretty quickly after I cleaned some cream cheese off of his eyes.” You laughed softly before you looked back up at him. “I brought him with me, because he wouldn’t leave me alone anyways. Especially after I started feeding him. He does this thing where it sounds like he’s crying if I leave. I don’t know if that’s what it really is, though.” You shrugged. “I… may have slept in your bed because I missed you, and he was crying so I let him sleep with me.” You half-laughed, sheepishly grinning up at him.

“Hope you’re not too upset about that.” 

He paused at all the information you had just offered him. “So, you were able to figure out his name… Interesting.” He continued to fiddle with your tresses. There was mud caked into your lovely hair. He released a light sigh. 

“Critter has a propensity for drama. I can’t imagine where he learned such absurd actions.” 

“Oh yeah, me either.” You snorted.

“Oh hush, you.” A tug at your hair made you hiss out, and you knew immediately in the moment that it had been on purpose, simply by how his grin quirked at the edges. 

“Critter learned more of it from George. His father also has quite the taste for melodrama.” He lowered his hands to push your shirt off your shoulders before you had time to protest. The mud had seeped through your clothes, leaving a thin milky film over your skin. He tossed the article into the corner with your discarded bowtie. 

“Thank you for taking care of him in my absence. As for you sleeping in my bed.” He paused and lifted you briefly to settle you onto the floor. “I don’t mind. But I am eternally curious how it only took you  _ one week _ to find out what you wanted.” He dropped onto his knees and started to carefully undo your pants. 

You hesitated, but stepped out of the crunchy fabric before he tossed them into the same corner as the rest of your clothes. 

“You are absolutely filthy.” He commented, a smirk tilting onto his lips as he looked up at you. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I’m not the one who lives in a  _ swamp _ .” A valid point, might you add. Before long, you let out a soft sigh as you fought back the urge to cover yourself for the sake of decency. But how decent were you honestly trying to be? You trekked through a mud bath, basically! 

The sense of vulnerability you were willing to offer him, however, never seemed to fade. Being practically bare to him, where he could have easily taken advantage of you, was something that you knew you would have to swallow. Perhaps you should have been a bit more freaked out, but you were ecstatic just to be in his presence. 

He would never do that to you.

You were ready to be bare in both ways. 

“But to answer you,” you murmured. “I didn’t find out everything I wanted.” You leaned down and grasped his hand gently in yours, before leading it up to place it over your heart so he could feel how absolutely crazy yours was going in that moment. “But I don’t think love works that way. You don’t ’figure it out’, you just kinda know. I feel right with you. You’re my better half.” You were cliche at times, sure, but fuck off because you were _allowed _to be in that moment. 

It was also particularly humorous considering your better half was a cannibalistic murderer. 

He blinked slowly up at you. The words were registering and he was touched, but something was stopping him from reacting how he wanted to. Instead of verbally responding, he squeezed your hand in understanding, trying to silently let you know that he had heard you. 

“Still, I would very much like to know how you came to this conclusion.” He eased his thumbs into the sides of your panties and started to tug, keeping his eyes on you while he slid the article down your legs. 

You knew he wouldn’t give up. He was persistent, and that was something that you had learned given  _ any  _ scenario that concerned him. But the reason you were dancing around it and not giving him what he wanted directly, was because you were afraid of reliving that moment again. The pain that caused you to learn those lessons. Your stomach knotted nervously, not because of the fact that he was removing all articles of clothing from you, but because you didn’t really know how to… start. 

“I uh,” you blanked for a second as you thought back. 

“I guess I should start at the beginning, then.” You swallowed, before you stepped out of the undergarments and stood before him. You were both vulnerable, and you knew that. But you trusted him in a way that you couldn’t explain.

“When you left, I cried. I cried for a long time until I was emotionally and physically exhausted; so I sat against your willow tree. I don’t know how much time passed between that moment and the moment I met Critter, honestly. It felt like hours. It could have been less, it could have been more. But eventually I was, just as I was about to drift off, disturbed by the sight and sound of him knocking over the cart of food that you had.” You took a breath, a pause. 

“Like I said, I was scared of him at first, but he was the first piece of distraction that I got, so I was happy to humor it. He tripped into some cream cheese, and then he cried. I cleaned him off, and in return, he let me pick him up. I guessed his name because of what I observed. I said something along the lines of him being a weird looking critter, and he chirped when I said his name.” You looked down to him then. “Is this enough detail for you?” You smiled softly. 

He gripped your hips and softly spun you around. He pressed his lips to the base of your spine. “Yes, don’t mind me. Please continue with your story, darling.” It was like riding a bike, how easily he could fall into familiarity with you. He stood slowly, running his hands over your sides, reminding him once again, that yes, you were here. He slid his hands over your shoulder blades and undid the clasp on your bra, slipping the straps over your shoulders. 

Once you were completely nude, he placed you back onto his vanity. 

He turned his attention to the tub then, turning on the taps to get the temperature right before immediately returning to you, now with a brush in hand. He was going to tackle your hair, once and for all. It was silently driving him mad how muddy you were. 

“Oh no.” You whispered as you saw the brush. “Wouldn’t it be better to get my hair wet before-hand?” It was probably so knotty now, and ugh. Just his claws combing through it was painful enough. 

“Carry on with your story. And  _ no _ .” He flashed you a dazzling smile before he started to softly work on your hair, starting at the very tips and only moving on once that section was perfectly smoothed through. 

“But you’re just combing more mud through my hair!” You whined.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your most fascinating week? Don’t mind me.” There was no way he was going to stop. 

You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hands on the sides of the vanity as you focused on the sound of him. The yanking of your hair, no matter how gentle he was being, was inevitable. “Anyway,” you gave in, a bit shakily.

“Charlie came in soon after and she was throwing around a paper that was… your official resignation. It said that you wouldn’t come back as long as I was… there.” Your fingertips were tapping anxiously on the surface before you swallowed, feeling emotion warm your cheeks. “I uh, she got me some more clothes afterwards. I went back to my room then, and I… laid there, on my bed, for a long time.” 

You shook your head, slowly. “It doesn’t feel like a week, Al, it felt like so much longer. But I, um, stayed in my bed for two days, I think. I didn’t eat, I didn’t really even sleep, I didn’t leave. I had a lot of time to think about my decisions and the consequences. I realized how toxic and dangerous my mind is.” You laughed humorlessly. 

He hummed in a certain cadence, ebbing and flowing with your words. “You know, you are still very young. This is something that I had forgotten in my pursuit of you.” He was still doing his best to comb through your tangled mass of hair before he got you into the tub. “It’s not that your mind is toxic, little one, you still have much to learn about yourself and in the world you now reside in.” You had died so young and forgotten everything you had learned in your life. 

Despite what you had learned in this new afterlife, it was hard to believe that any of this was real, even as you listened to him. Not in the doubting way you had fought yourself with, but because it all felt like a fairytale than anything. The way he gripped you, the way he held you, how he was so good to you. You didn’t deserve him, but you still wanted him all to yourself. It would be a process, for sure, but you were willing to go through years of his own doubt just for the chance to be his again.

Fully. Completely.  _ His _ . 

“In my own time away from you, I visited the human world to speak with your mother. I let her know what had happened to you and visited your home. In some ways, I know more of your life than you do. You cannot fully blame yourself for not knowing any better when you have forgotten all you might have learned while you were living.” He sat the brush next to you and picked you up once more. 

“I interrupted, please do carry on.” He settled you into the warm tub and he summoned a small wooden stool to seat himself upon so that he could cleanse you of all this mess. 

When you were placed in the water, you let out a soft sigh of relief; already feeling the dried mud ease off of you as it lost its harsh consistency. You looked at him, scared that if you looked away, he would be gone too. The two of you were scared of losing each other.

But still. That small moment of peace was put on pause as you processed his words. “Wait, wait wait  _ wait _ .” It felt like your brain just record-scratched. 

“You visited my  _ mom _ ?” You whispered in surprise. You weren’t sure  _ why _ , exactly, you were so surprised, because that was absolutely something that Alastor would do given the opportunity. It was just like him to do something like that. Consider your explanation paused.

“Yes. She was a lovely woman. Very kind. And very much like you. It might please you to know, I stole a blanket from your room while she wasn’t looking.” He started pouring water onto your hair with a black glass cup, wetting your hair. 

You blinked. And then you started to laugh. “You— how did you even get into my house? How did you even find where I lived?” You were laughing in disbelief, because now everything was starting to focus on the fact that yes, he did visit your actual mother from when you were alive. Your mind had been hyper-focused on telling the story that it didn’t really occur to you what exactly he was telling you and the sheer importance it may hold.

“I mean,” you looked him up and down once, “don’t get me wrong, you’re eye candy to me,” you snickered, “but to the human world?” 

“I was disguised in my human form, I’ll have you know. Why, good gracious, I even went through the trouble to put on a police uniform. And considering my checkered past with the police force, that is the most shocking thing I’ve done in a while.” Thick and dark shampoo was his favorite, so naturally, it was what he chose to wash your hair with. That way, you would smell like him. 

You were dying. Again. He was so fucking funny, but in a charming way that had you swoon and fall to his feet if he ever needed you to. You were also touched. “I’m not mad,” you snickered, reassuring him in your case of the giggles. “I think it’s funny that you went to the human world, to my house, just to… what? Get a blanket from me?” Because that’s basically what the reasoning was, right? 

Dedicated as fuck. 

“No, no, not at all. I went to ensure your parents would know how you died. That you and they would finally have closure. I also let her know that I would be taking care of Kyle and his father outside of the law, but that you would have your justice. I wouldn’t go to the human world for just a blanket. That was merely a wonderful bonus.” He started massaging the suds in your hair, easing your head back onto the lip of the tub so he wouldn’t get anything into your eyes. 

_ That _ shut you up. And it made a lot more sense than just him going to your old home to get a blanket, honestly. Your laughter faded out into giggles, before you stopped laughing completely. You blinked up at the ceiling as he washed your hair, and good god did it feel nice. He did all of that… for you. He was doing all of this for you. 

You inhaled a great bout of air, and then sank deeper into the bath, your mouth lining up with the warm water before you released the breath in a bunch of bubbles. 

He had gone through all that trouble to fix the mistake he had made, and in doing so, ensured that no other family would be torn apart by the father that had given the order. But who was to say that he wouldn’t just be replaced? He probably already had been, honestly. It was a never-ending cycle of repetition. Just like your goddamn mind. “What was it like?” You questioned, suddenly. 

How did it feel… to be alive again? “... What about my dad? And how did you find out where Kyle’s father was? And how did you even get onto the surface?” You were beginning to ramble. “The only demons that can go to the surface are—“ The IMPs. You gasped loudly and tilted your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. 

“Did you hire the Immediate Murder Professionals?” You tilted your head slightly. 

You were quick to get excited about things, so you quickly filled in the gap of silence with even  _ more  _ questions. “But what was it like!” Your hands flew out from the water to extend and exaggerate your point. Droplets of water flung at him. “What color was the sky? Was—  _ is _ it winter up there too? What do my mom and dad look like? What does my  _ house  _ look like? My room? Am I the same as I was on the surface? What’s different? You know, I—“ you cut yourself off once you looked at him again. Whoops. You sunk back down into the water.

“Sorry.”

Alastor smiled down at your head. It was always so easy to slip back into fondness and admiration with you. Truly, you were such a kind and innocent soul. He slipped his fingertips easily through your tresses, taking the time to slowly rinse and untangle your strands. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I am accustomed to how excited you get over things.” 

He urged the stool he was seated on closer so his knees were nestled against the tub. “I wasn’t alive again if that’s what you were thinking, I had simply transformed my demon form to resemble my human one once more. And those transformations are very painful, but, we are not talking about myself at the moment, I am still very much interested to hear how you spent your time, little sharkling.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, breathing the scent in that he had missed so dearly. 

“Please, continue.”

You leaned into him slightly, closing your eyes for a moment before you nodded lightly. You would pester him later, for sure, especially now that he had told you that he went to the surface. He had seen your parents! He had… taken care of Kyle and his father. Now you didn’t have to worry; but oftentimes, things were harder than originally thought. You never thought that you would be in a relationship like this, but in all honesty, you wouldn’t change it for a thing. “Okay.” You murmured. 

“So, eventually I left my room and went to the lobby, because I’m not sure if you know, but staying in your room constantly, staring at nothing but four walls and a collection of antiques, gets boring. Quick. Husk was in the lobby then, but I didn’t really notice until I started watching television. And I swear that television is after me, Al, or it’s a sick coincidence, because not only did every single show have something that reminded me of you, but your actual broadcast interrupted.” 

You leaned your head back to look up at him. 

“I didn’t know you were still a radio host,” you inquired curiously before shaking your head. “But that’s not the point, I got angry and threw the remote at the screen, but it missed. And then I went to Husk and apparently he didn’t even know why you had left. I guess word travels fast, but only in specific parts of Hell, huh?” You began to focus your attention back onto the bubbles that surrounded you. “I told him what happened, and he gave me a drink. He told me it was water, though! And then I yelled at him because it  _ wasn’t  _ water.” Your face twisted up. 

“And then he basically dragged me out of the hotel and to his casino. Did you know that he had a casino?” 

“Lean forward, dear, I’ll get your back.” He was listening intently to your words, and the tone you used while sharing them. You truly were so young; it was easy for him to forget sometimes. He would need to be more aware of that in the future. “Husk owns most of the casinos down here.” He mentioned as he started wiping away the mud that still resided on your shoulders and on parts of your skin. 

You leaned forward, and nodded. So he had known. “He taught me how to play blackjack. I suck at it.” You laughed softly, “but it was a good distraction.” A shrug, before you continued. “I got drunk, and then he told me that I needed to take responsibility for my actions, and I know that I knew that, but it never really clicked with me that… this whole mess is my fault.” The tone of your voice softened into a sad one, as you recalled his words. 

“I was childish. I was in my head too much, and didn’t look at all of the truths in front of me. I forgave you, Al, but I hadn’t… I can’t forget what I went through and I was stuck in that part of my life. I still am, but I’m trying my best to move on. I’m trying to get past that, because I know people can change. You showed me they can.” You shook your head. 

“He told me what I had done from an outside perspective, and I guess that’s what really opened my eyes. I listened to Angel because I thought that… he knew what was good for me. I have always tried to be his friend, but he never really cared all that much to replicate the desire. So when he tried to help me, I nose-dived straight into it with the hope that we could be friends.” 

A deep sigh was released then through your nose. “Anyways, the thing is, is that I shouldn’t let hope be the deciding factor for me. I think that I need to listen to my heart more, and the minute that I figured that out, I knew I had to fix it. I just… didn’t know how. I didn’t even know if you wanted me anymore, honestly. I just… I knew what I was getting into with you when I got involved with you, I just don’t remember all of the lessons that I should remember from my previous life. You know, if I didn’t have amnesia, I doubt any of this would have even happened.” In some weird way, your amnesia was both your saving grace and the thing that would fuck your life up consistently and without fail. 

“That’s all I remember from what he told me, because I was drunk, but after he took me back to the hotel, I went to your room, fed Critter, and went to sleep in your bed. I was tipsy at that point, but I was sobering up, and I was left with a bunch of thoughts that, thankfully, weren’t spurred on by doubt. I knew I wanted you because I realized that I did all of this because I was…” You looked down to your hands then.

“I was naive, yeah, but I was also scared of losing you. I was scared because you have been with me since day one, Al. You have been there, without fail, even as you ran me up a damn wall.” It was odd, looking back at it all. 

“But you also helped me grow in confidence, I guess. You helped me figure my shit out and not let people take advantage of me. I wanted to make sure I knew everything about you so people couldn’t tear us apart, but I ended up tearing us up by doing just that.”

He stood for a moment, moving his stool to the side of the tub. He reached a hand into the water and pulled up one of your legs. As he started wiping you down, his eyes met yours. “We both acted… irrationally. I was so deep in my own hurt that I stopped considering your own, and I had shut down. When you told me you were leaving to save my heart from being broken, I had checked out. But I failed to listen for the reasons as to why you needed your time. I should have been more patient and I should not have been so impulsive. We both need to work on how we express ourselves, I think.” His words were soft, low, his static a calming hum about him as his eyes traced over your visage, his hands carefully wiping away the thin film of mud.

“This was bound to happen. We rushed in so quickly, so eager for affection and an anchor in all this madness. You are my only darling, and that means you are going to experience all of my mistakes. I wish it weren’t so, because you deserve so much better, but the same goes for you as well. I am destined to experience and work through all of your mistakes as well. But in the future, I promise to be better, to be more patient, and not be so brash. We both were… less than perfect throughout this ordeal. But I for one, can happily say I forgive you.” He squeezed your ankle before continuing.

“I know I am far from perfect, and I know that you are in the same boat, darling. However, we are in this together. I must admit though, I am still hurt, as I am sure you are, but I know we can work through this together. So together we will be.” He brought your leg to his lips, placing a kiss just above the ankle. 

You blinked, your eyes wide as you listened to him. Your heart was racing again, but not out of anxiety or worry, but because you couldn’t believe that he… forgave you. You were glad that the bath was as warm as it was, because if it hadn’t been, your cheeks would have given away the fact that you were feeling particularly emotional in that moment. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” you choked out. 

“I’m sorry for being indecisive and unable to trust myself, and I don’t expect you to not feel pain, because it hurt. It really did. But we can get through this.” 

He smiled and with a snap of his fingers, you were completely clean, as was the bath water fresh and warm.

“What-” You gawked, peering down at yourself and the water. 

“My turn.” He stepped fully clothed into the bath water and plopped himself down into your lap, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into yours. “I missed you very much, little darling.” 

“ _ Al!”  _ You yelled out in disbelief, because? He was literally sitting on top of you, and thank you lord for buoyancy because if there wasn’t any, you would absolutely  _ probably _ be crushed in that moment. He was also fully clothed, and you were wholly confused and surprised at the outcome. 

“I—” You were pressed into him, stiffening for a minute before you managed to relax into him with a sigh. “I missed you too.” You murmured, closing your eyes as you brought your hands up to tug on his suit jacket. “But you’re in a bath, fully clothed Al. That’s not how you take a bath.” A soft laugh, as you wrapped your arms around his middle to hug him close to you. 

“Now of all times is when you choose to be picky.” He tutted, as his clothes vanished from his form. This only caused him to slip closer to you, his skin pressing directly to yours. He placed his head over yours, shutting his eyes to bask in the warmth of your hold and the water. 

“Would you do me a favor?” He turned so he could wind his legs about your waist. He was sure the image looked ridiculous considering the size difference between you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“Wash you?” You questioned.

“No. Just hold me for a while. I missed your touch and I find myself starving for it.” He released a heavy sigh, relaxing into you. 

You let out a small ‘oh’, blinking up at him before you nodded softly. “Yes,” you whispered, leaning back so that your back rested against the tub, your head resting against the lip of it, as you attempted to pull him closer to you. You couldn’t believe that the two of you could somehow fit in the tub, but that was the least of your worries. All you really wanted was to be close to him, to breathe in his scent, to be his once again.

“I never wanted to wake up. But you came back. I believe I am still waking up.” He ran his hands over your back, another reassuring move for him, just so he could continue to remind himself that you were indeed, real, and with him. 

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured softly, bringing your hand up to gently trail across his cheek. 

“Excellent. Because I don’t want to leave here, and if I do, it’s not going to be without you.” He hummed. “Be prepared to have me as your new shadow, darling. Because I fear I may be unable to leave your side ever again.” His arms tightened around you. He had never felt such a maelstrom of emotions inside him, but he was ready to weather the storm, as long as you were by his side.

As you both sat in silence, Alastor was in his mind, soaking in the warmth you offered, and the feeling of your silken skin on his. It was better than any balm he could have applied to soothe his aching heart. To think he had been ready to sleep decades away, ignoring his responsibilities and his gators, just to wallow in his own brand of self isolation and pity. He pressed his nose into your wet hair, breathing in your scent that still clung to you. 

He wasn’t sure what more there was to say, because he did forgive you. But just as you had said, he would not be able to forget. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. For all of his knowledge on things, he was just as naive as you were when it came to romance and relationships. He was on a learning curve just as much as you were, and he needed to be mindful of that going forward. 

But the important part of all that was in fact that you both were going to move forward,  _ together _ . 

For once in your life, the only times you had ever been able to get a sense of stability and peace, had been with him. Sure, the beginning hadn’t been something you were proud of, but now? Now you didn’t want to change a thing. Because it all came back to him, and you never wanted to lose him. You wanted to keep him for all that he was, you wanted to work on yourself with him, you wanted to help  _ him.  _ You needed each other, desperately, and it was shown with how desperately you clung to one another.

Turning your head slightly, you leaned forward just enough to press a lingering kiss to his exposed shoulder, before leaning back once more. “Having you as a shadow,” you whispered, “isn’t the worst thing in the world.” You joked softly. 

“Mmm, thank you. I think it sounds entertaining. I wish to spend all of my time with you. One week together, versus one week apart, I can tell you which one I’d prefer. And I never want this to happen again. It makes me feel so childish and stupid to think of how I acted.” He rubbed his forehead on yours. 

“You’re not the childish one.” You had been. You had both made mistakes.

“I think we both can take blame for this. It seems together we share one brain. Terribly unfortunate, but there you are.” He muttered playfully. 

“Oh, how did you survive before me?” You reached up to rub your nose against his in an eskimo kiss, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“I was merely existing until you arrived, breathing new life into me. You are my better half, and I must take care not to lose you.” One of his hands trailed over your side, memorizing and taking notes on if your body had changed. 

Without him, you were torn. You didn’t respond to that particular phrase, except for a crinkling of your eyes as you grinned up at him. However, your eyes fell to his lips after a moment, your laughter ebbing off as you felt his hand run up your side. 

“Al?” You were completely and utterly lost in his presence in that moment. You brought your hand to his cheek then, before very gently pressing the pad of your thumb to the edge of his lips in a silent question. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I just…” You felt a bit flustered, honestly. You wanted to feel his kiss again.

His head tilted to the side as he looked at you. “You are such a funny little thing.” he murmured, mostly to himself. He leaned forward and connected your lips, pressing a firm, but chaste kiss, to your lips before pulling away. As he pulled away, a rather loud embarrassing gurgle erupted from his stomach. He looked down on reflex.

“My goodness. I think I’m  _ actually _ starving.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “How long has it been since you ate?” You attempted to unravel yourself from him, because as much as you wanted to stay in the warmth of his hold, you were also hungry. 

“A week.” He said plainly. 

“A week!” You exclaimed, “ _ Al! _ ” 

“Listen, darling, rules were thrown out of the window, I was busy wallowing in misery and nightmares, I didn’t have the time nor energy to take care of such matters. However, now, I think I can stand to cook some breakfast.” He tapped you playfully on the nose. 

“You’re usually the one reminding me to eat,” you huffed, “but now we have to remind each other. Okay. Let’s go. I wanna eat.” Which was a feat in itself. But you couldn’t move without him getting off of you. 

“Fair enough.” He snapped his fingers, and you both were out of the tub and dried, clad in matching striped robes. 

“My  _ GOD! _ ” He never warned you of teleporting, did he? At the very least, the feeling was minimal, but it still made you stiffen with shock. You may have also picked up on his habit of being over dramatic, just slightly. 

“God has no place down here, you silly thing.”

“You can be my God.” You looked up at him. 

A wide grin spread over his lips. “Oh really? I’ll have to keep that in mind for future reference.” He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close. 

You pushed him playfully. “Don’t let that get to your head. I was joking!” You were joking, okay? Gosh.  _ GOSH _ .

“Sure  _ you _ were, darling. You know, I can see when you’re joking or not… We’ll just have to wait and see.” He tugged you forward, intent on feeding you both.

You mocked him silently, but nevertheless followed after him willingly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Were you that expressive? Man, you should really work on that. 

“Who’s name you’re going to be calling out, of course!” He let out a hearty laugh. 

If you could do that record-scratch thing that he did when caught off guard, you would have. Your face was flustered beyond belief, red everywhere, and you let out a small sound of shock.

“So, how would you like your eggs?”

Scrambled, just like your fucking brain. 


	58. Press F To Pay Respects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aka the chapter where the authors can hear the anguished screams of rage.
> 
> ⚠️ sexual content ahead, read at your own discretion. ⚠️

You hadn’t been sure how long it had been since you had last taken care of yourself in a manner such as this, where you were presented by a plethora of breakfast foods and you had actually eaten until you could no longer. You had to give props to his upbringing, honestly, because he was a good cook. It would be a blatant lie to convince yourself to say otherwise, and you weren’t even going to  _ humor  _ it. 

But alas, it was finished with small talk while you finished with the rest of your story, not that there had been much else to add except your interaction with Niffty, Vaggie and… Angel. 

Oh fuck, you forgot Angel! You paused in putting your fork down, but managed to do so as you thought back on the conversation; a soft clatter hit the end of the plate. You cast your gaze to your lap for a moment as you leaned back into the chair, resting your arms around your too-full stomach. Ugh, you ate too much. 

The chair creaked in acknowledgment of that.

You toyed with the ends of your shirt anxiously, because… how could you even begin to tell Alastor that you had also forgiven Angel for his stupid-ass story? Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him after a moment. “When you see Angel,” you started cautiously, as the subject was still incredibly raw, “please don’t hurt him.”

Even after everything, you still looked out for those that meant  _ something _ to you.

Alastor narrowed his eyes and let out a disappointed sigh. A _ disappointed  _ sigh! You blinked at him as he crossed his arms over his chest. Had he been concocting some sort of plan on getting back at him? 

“Fine. Just know how difficult it will be for me… and he will still be sitting down while I have a talk with him.” Alastor’s mind was spinning instantly into a frenzy of erasing all of the maimings he had planned for the spider. He didn’t need all of his arms, they were extras! But if you didn’t want him harmed, then fine. 

He would just have to give him a stern talking to. He would not allow the effeminate harlot to get in between you and him ever again; it was not his place to put such doubts in your mind, especially ones that were unfounded. Alastor might have had unsavory plans for you to begin with, but those had long since vanished to be replaced with plans of love, company, and contentment. 

Those were the only things he wanted from you. He expected nothing more and nothing less. 

You let out a sigh of relief and slumped into the chair, the sudden tension in your shoulders fading. “Thank you.” 

You couldn’t believe you had to talk to him about  _ not _ hurting Angel, but he was an individual who had a skewed moral code, and you were more than aware of that. You didn’t like holding grudges, especially if you had come to an understanding and in your case and the spider’s, you doubted you would ever come to know the true reasoning behind his actions.

If it was forged out of concern, or jealousy, you weren’t sure. However, you were more than happy to put it all behind you, because the stress of the situation had begun to eat you alive. And now that you were in Alastor’s life again, you wouldn’t give him up for the world. 

That being said. “Do you want me to help clean this up?” You looked down at the plates surrounding the two of you before you peeked up at him with a silly, curious smile. “Or can you do the snappity thing for this, too?” 

You tilted your head, before you scooted your chair away from the table, stood up, and walked behind him. Once you were, you leaned over his shoulder, your arms draping over his chest, crossed. “I’ll do anything you want me to,” and you leaned your head to nuzzle your cheek against his. You had always been an affectionate creature, that was for damn sure.

The moment he brought his right hand up, your question was answered. A  _ snap _ filled the vicinity, and you watched with curiosity as everything the two of you had used, silverware and all, was suddenly clean and gone from sight. 

“I do not want to waste a single moment with you.” He murmured, as the same hand reached back and spread outwards to fill the gaps between your fingers. “What would you rather do today? Anything you want, I’ll make it happen.” He had missed the little shows of love and intimacy between both of you. It was a form of entertainment that he would never tire of, truly. 

Though, the anxieties at the back of his mind that claimed that this wasn’t real and he would awaken decades later alone, still nagged. A sickening crack from his neck dissuaded those thoughts- they just wouldn’t do. Not even he could dream up such a perfect situation as he had.

Unraveling your arms from around him, you let out a ‘hm’, the sound vibrating from your lips. You weren’t sure  _ what  _ there was to do in a place like this; it was a house in the middle of a swamp. It wasn’t like you could just go out and start swimming, and even if you could, like hell you were going to get that dirty again. Maybe you had to set your sights for something within the house then. 

Your attention fell down to his outstretched hand, and let a soft smile crinkle at the corners of your eyes. Bringing your hand up, you placed it in his larger one and hooked your fingers into the spaces between his. “How about you show me around the place?” You questioned, then. “Oh, or maybe! You have a library, can you show me the library?” Books had a way of placing you in a completely different world, and you were eternally curious as to how many stories he held within his walls. 

“You want to see my library?” He lovingly curled his fingers around your hand, taking note of the smooth texture of your skin, and the gentle way your fingers squeezed his palm. “I would be pleased and honored to show you, my dear.” This really was all too surreal for him. But, not even he was that hedonistic to imagine such self-indulgent things. 

Yes, you could be childlike, but he supposed he could just as well. He wouldn’t trade these tender moments for anything.

He stood up then, the chair scooting across the floor. “Come with me, and I will show you my library.” He paused. “Now, do keep in mind that I have not had guests in…” He thought to himself for a moment. Had he ever had guests? No. No, he had not. “Ever. I have never really had guests so don’t expect it to be immaculate. I kept Niffty out of there on purpose, the first and only time she came in I nearly fed her to the gators. Her way of organizing things and mine differ greatly.” You could sense a story coming up.

“I once-“ 

Bingo. 

“-left one of my drawings for an iron elk out, and she placed it with animals when it clearly belonged with the torture section of my books. An absolute nightmare. So the place is rather messy!” He led you through the back of the house and downstairs. In one room was most of his most unsavory business. There was a lab and area for… certain, torturous, excursions to be explored and the other half was a full library. Luckily, the stairs led right into the library, so hopefully, he wouldn’t have to worry about you exploring other darker parts of his being. Not at the moment at least.

You decided not to inquire about the iron elk, but remain silent. “Niffty isn’t the brightest,” you agreed lightly as you followed after him, “but she offered me advice that ultimately led me to you. So I’m thankful for that, at least.” You began to swing your arm, and ultimately your hands together, especially once you picked up your pace to meet his long strides. He was exceedingly tall, and to keep up with him, you often had to speed-walk. 

But that was okay. 

You squeezed his hand gently, “I don’t care if it’s not neat. It’s yours, and it’s…” You trailed off as you entered a mahogany and darker colored themed room. There were bookcases filled wall-to-wall with books, a window with the shades drawn on the right side so it filtered, and let the room bask in red light. In the center was a desk with a leather chair, accompanied by a lamp. Another desk was situated just nearby that one, and then a leather couch close by. It wasn’t a cathedral of books, but it was a personal collection and you were speechless at the beauty of it all. 

“Beautiful.” 

You felt like a child on Christmas Day, and you immediately walked into the room to inspect it further, still holding onto his hand. Libraries were so interesting, man! They had the history of the world, sometimes! You were hesitant to inspect the books, though, because you didn’t want to mess up their placement. They also all looked incredibly expensive and hoo boy, you wouldn’t be able to pay for any of that if you messed one up. “I don’t know where to start!” You looked back to him then with a beaming grin.

He couldn’t help but smile down at you in return. You were what he needed. You brought such lightness to his life, such joy, such bliss. It was something he would work harder on appreciating. 

“Well, perhaps you should tell me what you would like to see? What is your poison, my precious little darling? Is it magic?” He gestured to his first column of books, of which it was completely stuffed. It was no secret he was interested in the magical arts. “Or are you interested in history?” He stepped forward and pointed to several rows of books on one section of his shelves.

Alastor nodded. “They are organized by country and then by Hell and Heaven.” He noted before dropping his hand to motion to the next portion of his books. “Here we have Torture, no, you probably won’t want that one.” He muttered mostly to himself. As he continued downwards, “Here we have a slew of animal references, I use them for… reasons.” You didn’t need to know what he needed all these for, he was allowed to have a few trade secrets, otherwise, you might put him out of business! 

You followed his motions, but you were torn between two sections and quite literally sold by them. You looked down to your intertwined hands for a moment, before you tried to unravel your fingers. “Just a minute, I promise.” 

You looked up at him then because honestly, he could hold you in place with his own hand for the rest of eternity if he very well chose to. He had an insurmountable amount of strength, and the fact that he was humoring the soft affection made your heart flutter in your chest. You hadn’t realized you could feel more affection for him than you already did, but here you were. 

“Hmm?” He turned to you, admiring how your eyes were tracing over his shelves. “Oh, of course.” He released his hold on you, reluctantly, but he couldn’t very well hold onto your hand forever. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to make you feel like you were a prisoner. You were his partner, his friend, his… his lover. And he wanted you to feel free within the spaces of your relationship. 

If he needed to start with letting you peruse his bookshelves, then he would. “Please, let me know if you need any assistance.” He kept his eyes on you as he moved over to his notebooks. They alone were on an entirely separate shelving unit. He had made many discoveries and spells in his time spent in Hell. He would do some more work while you lost yourself in the realm of his own personal collection. 

He was honored if he was being honest with himself. He was glad you both shared similar interests and could spend time doing what he treasured most: reading. 

When he let go of your hand, you felt the desire to hold it again, but decided not to. Because you were the one that chose to let go, at least for the moment. Your eyes immediately began to flicker between the ‘History’ and ‘Magic’ section indefinitely, before, finally, you settled on the Magic. You weren’t sure what pulled you to the magic, honestly, but perhaps it was because of the unknown factor. History was something that would never change. 

It would stay written in stone, and you could come back and read it another time, but magic? What could the magic have? You knelt down onto your knees and began to go through the books. 

You traced over all of them, but came up empty-handed when you began to realize that  _ none  _ were in English. One after the other, you set them out, rubbed off the built up dust. “Is this latin?” You looked down to one that said ‘La Veritable Magie Noire’. You held it up to show him. It was an old book that held a large red symbol on the front cover.

It  _ looked  _ magical.

“It’s French,” Alastor corrected, “though French, Spanish and Italian all stem from Latin, so it’s an easy mistake. The only reason I know French is due to my upbringing, you know. My mother made sure that I learned the languages of all the folks who lived in our neighborhood.” He smiled down at his desk as a certain memory played in his mind. “We had all sorts of people who lived near us, but most of them came from France, some from Paris, others from little villages. They brought their crafts with them…” He shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry darling, I seem to be very sentimental today. It’s French.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled, before taking the book and walking over to his desk, before placing it on it. “Since you understand it, maybe you could teach me.” You paused for a second, laying your palm flat against the book. “I’m no magician, though.” You laughed softly, “and definitely not today, today I want to learn more about you.” Your eyes fell to his bookcase then, one of the ones he didn’t mention, but you wouldn’t go snooping anymore. You were passed that; you had learned your lesson. 

“If you want to.” And because you were light enough, you then hopped onto the desk to sit upon it, where you began to swing your legs gently back and forth. You looked back to him with a curious glint.

He gazed hard and long at you. “If you want to rip my cabin apart bit by bit, I will not stop you. This is my home. I want this to be  _ our _ home. You are welcome to every part of it. You know of my darker inclinations and my predilections for more sadistic pleasures, but I will trust you.” He leaned back in his seat. He had shocked himself for a brief moment there. He nodded before continuing. 

“Darling. I know we have just hurdled over a very rocky patch, and we are both going to need time for healing, but I want this time that we do spend together to be rich. Please explore at your leisure and if you have questions, you are always welcome to come to me. You do not understand how willing I am to fulfill your every need, whatever your whims, I am happy to fill them. If you want to learn French, so be it, but otherwise, what is mine, is now yours. I want you to feel at home, so…” He gestured to the entirety of his library, “Welcome home.” 

He smiled, and settled his hand on your knee, and for the first time, that slow, gentle smile overtook his features. He squeezed the supple flesh that rested underneath his hand and then released, wanting you to go forth and share in his own world. 

You were at a loss, honestly. In that moment, it had never become clearer as to how much you had given up by leaving him, and how much you had lost. He was far too good for you, even if he was a sadistic, masochistic murderer, but that was a part of him you would have to come to cherish, too. It would be a bit more difficult, sure, because you weren’t like him in that scheme of things, but in the grand picture? You would learn to accept him for all that he was and all that he would be. 

Creepy factors and all.

“You are…” You breathed out with a smile, “wonderful. I don’t deserve you.” And then it clicked about what he had hinted to, and you stilled for a moment. You slid off the desk then but still leaned against it for the moment. 

“But did you just ask me to live with you?” How embarrassing if you had misunderstood!

He blinked for a moment, an easy smile still lingering on his features. “I thought I had made it clear.” He scooped you up and settled you over his lap, draped across his thighs as if you were a part of him. 

You let out a small gasp at that, completely caught off guard by the fact that  _ yes,  _ Alastor could move you around like a rag doll at will if he so pleased. You looked up to him curiously and perhaps even a bit helplessly.

“Whatever I have is yours. This cabin, my swamp, these books. I want you to know I value you as an equal. You are to be beside me, with me, not part of me… well perhaps part of me, but in the way that I want to be a part of you. And I don’t want to waste our time together because I have found heaven in you. And I would like to keep my personal heaven as close as possible for as long as I can.” He pressed his forehead into your hair, allowing his lips to take in the texture of your skin and the scent of you.

“I want you. Nothing more and nothing less. All of you, and one day I hope you can accept the same of me. I understand I am much darker than you could ever be, but you bring light to my life.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head to your neck. He started easing his lips over the column of your throat, tracing the tendons and the veins he knew to run there.

You were more than a bit confused, but you couldn’t help closing your eyes and letting out a soft, shuddering sigh at the sensation. “Al…” Your neck was sensitive, it always had been. It took everything in you to not laugh at the feeling and push him away instinctively— but it didn’t tickle you so much as make your stomach flip and flop all over the place; and for one reason or another, you began to feel your face heat up. 

He hummed against your flesh. “I told you, I will always love you. And I meant it then, just as I do now.” He solidly pushed his lips into the side of your neck before pulling away. His fingertips lightly gripped your jaw, tilting your head so he’d meet your eyes. 

“I love you.” He murmured. “Do not hide from me, for I no longer want to hide from you.” He sealed his lips over yours, kissing you in earnest. You let out a sound of surprise, your eyes widening a fraction before you decided that, even if you didn’t know what the fuck was going on, you were going to just go with the flow. He could feel the slightly chapped skin of your lips on his, but he did not care, and he pressed his tongue to the seam of you, longingly tracing over it, asking you sweetly to open for him. 

You closed your eyes once again. You loved him. You trusted him now; fully, completely. Your heart was already hammering inside your chest simply by his words alone, because good  _ god _ did this man have a way with words, and now you felt like if your heart went any faster, it would literally explode! But you would bleed and go through that pain for him if you had to. 

Slowly, hesitantly, you parted your lips to allow him access, before you let out a heavy sigh through your nose and kissed him back, relaxing into him. Your right hand had grasped his suit jacket, while the other rested gingerly at the curve of his shoulder and neck. He had a way of making you feel breathless simply by being near you, and when you had to take a breath, you parted from his gently, each word causing your lips to brush over his. “I love you too,” you whispered as you reconnected your lips with his that time before you pressed into him a bit more as you readjusted, bringing both of your hands up to drape around his neck. 

Closeness. Intimacy. It was what you craved. You were an affectionate creature, and you adored the small things. The kisses, the holding, the affection he granted you; for you were his and he was yours. It was a grueling battle of dominance as the two of your tongues danced across one another, and you remained that way for a moment longer, before you began to move your lips to the rest of his face, peppering him with an infinite amount of affection. You had been a bit caught off guard by the original action, and it left you with belated breath. 

You were panting, soft breaths escaping you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. You could feel the blood and heat rushing all throughout your body, you could  _ hear  _ your heart slamming in your ribcage as you focused your attention on him. It was a desperation you hadn’t realized you so desperately craved. It hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind, and you doubt it would have ever come to mind if… all of this didn’t happen. 

“Please.” You whispered for him, almost silently, just barely, through the feverish kisses. It was barely audible over the internal sound of your body going batshit crazy over him. You were very quickly falling into a flustered state, the words falling from your lips then without you really understanding the weight of them. You pressed your lips to his again, feeling the soft indentations of them and how they molded seamlessly with yours. Pleading.

You had fallen for him, and you were helpless to the natural inclinations your body began to reveal over time; but at the very least, you had some familiarity with it at this point. Not a lot, but…  _ some.  _ And you hoped for your sake it was enough; but you wouldn’t worry about it. You forbade yourself to. It would only ruin the moment, that much you knew. And this moment was something that you wouldn’t part with for  _ anything  _ or  _ anyone. _

Alastor let out a low rumbling growl, nipping at your bottom lip in earnest. He lost himself as you surrendered control to him, his hand coming to trace gently over your sides, holding you gently and lovingly while he felt an intense sensation flood over him. He allowed his hands to hold you tight where he was, sitting serenely over his desk, rubbing his cheek against yours in solace, allowing your skin to trace teasingly over his. He let all of his emotions run rampant while you tried to figure him out. 

It was a sacrifice you had no inclination that you would need, but it came in handy. He wanted everything about you and you were willing to give that up to him because you adored how he treated you. So kind, patient, loving, in response to your confused pave-outs, of love. It had you working for the best outcome while you did your best in the meantime. 

In all honesty, the idea of your lip between his  _ incredibly sharp  _ teeth, though, had the instinctual fear of the fact that if he wasn’t careful, he could probably bite clean through it, and you would be none the wiser to know what to do then.

His growl, that deep rumble within his chest did nothing more than continue to stir the warmth that had begun to pool deep within your stomach; it caused your fingers to grasp a bit tighter to the fabric of his clothes, for some stability and a reminder that he was still here, even as the rest of the world faded away. 

You were nervous, afraid of making a stupid decision or mistake that would end this extreme bout of affection. But with each touch of your lips against his, each breath that was cut off with your nose pressed just next to his, your worries began to fade away. You couldn’t help but grin into the kisses a few times, as your happiness and satisfaction reached an all-time high. 

_ You  _ got high on cloud-nine, and it was an addicting sensation; something that you wanted to share with him, since he was sharing all of this, all of himself, with you. 

So maybe you ought to do the same. 

You weren’t sure how to show how much you wanted him in that moment, and for the rest of eternity. How you never wanted to part from him and how you missed him, incredibly, insurmountably. Lazily, with one hand, you began to play with the thinner strands of hair at the back upper portion of his neck, while the other one tentatively began to drift down to where the zipper of his suit jacket was before you paused. You hovered there, taking a much-needed breath, but you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t will your mouth, or your fingers to grasp at the small piece of metal. 

So, instead, you looked up at him through your lashes, the soft pants falling from your lips as you struggled to catch your breath that he stole, every. Single. Time. Without fail. Swallowing, you closed your eyes once more, instead splaying your hand against his chest, and reconnected your lips to his.  _ I want you, _ your kisses whispered, but no words fled from your lips.

Alastor let out a breathy sigh, his hands gripping against your sides as he traced your form. He wanted to know you. Every time he traced your sides he was aiming to identify you by your waist, your touch, your skin. He wanted to know you from the inside out. So when he was found with the option of feeling you from the inside, he took it, wanting to find your own intricate stories and markings. 

He wanted you to know yourself better before he did, so he would be able to learn just how much he treasured and adored you in all of his feelings. 

Alastor released a groan into your mouth, his claws tracing gently over your sides as he tasted you, and his mouth remained searching, looking out for the best way to please such an entity. The Radio Demon found solace searching for your own peace and comfort. 

You took the groan as a sign of him accepting what was happening, even though you too didn’t really have much experience. The only experience you had was with him, and the simple thought of it made your insides all knotted up and you felt feather-light. It was a wondrous feeling, though; a sensation you wouldn’t dream of parting with. You felt like a child of Christmas, excited to experience all the wonders but equally nervous to see what you would get. 

Well, if anything, it was  _ similar. _

But as much as you wanted to stay in the position, it was rather uncomfortable, seeing as you were both sitting on a singular chair, and you were straddling him. You were flushed with emotion and desire, your cheeks radiating warmth in such intensity that you could feel it without even touching it. 

Your entire body felt warm, but in a way that buzzed inside of you and caused your toes to curl in anticipation, and your breath to catch in your throat, as you finally got enough courage to grab the zipper to his suit jacket, and pull it down as far as you could. You were warm in a way that made you crave to be rid of these clothes; and it radiated with how feverish your motions were, with how desperate they seemed. To feel him again; the thought of parting from him for even a second scared the living hell out of you, so you wouldn’t. 

And you were eager to have him fully. 

For the two of you to feel each other like you hadn’t before, even if the idea mildly frightened you— truthfully, the fear was brought on by your inexperience and desire to not mess a single thing up. You looked up at him then, after you finished unzipping his jacket, a nervous smile dancing upon your lips. But alas, such nerves could only bring you so far when you were overcome by lust.

Alastor only had the energy in him to grin, for knowing that you held nerves in this section of your lives made him happy, because it meant that you were willing to give in to him. His claws skittered over your skin, tracing and loving over your form while he found peace with you as a whole. A growl rumbled in his chest as he settled his lips over your pulse point, nipping and sucking that area into full arousal. He wanted to paint your skin into bruises, make you feel all of him fully so you would understand just how much he adored and wanted you. 

Among everything else, he wanted your love, your acceptance, your admiration. He would accept nothing less. An aggravated sigh left his lips as he suckled onto your neck, deciding that attaching himself onto your pulse point would not be as professional as he had hoped but it would be as serious as he dreamed. 

As he sealed his lips over your pulse and continued to suck, he hoped others would see his mark as something he was entirely serious about. It was something he wanted everyone to know he wanted the best and most wholesome for. Regardless if that meant sex or anything else, he wanted you to know, he wanted all of you, forever, regardless of what that entailed. 

You shut your mouth immediately when his kisses trailed down your neck, and the moment he began to suck on you, your fingertips gripped at his shirt; your head falling to the side as you offered him your vulnerability, your passionate acceptance to all he was and ever would be. 

It felt nice, if a bit ticklish; and it had you doing everything to stop yourself from instinctively pushing your head towards him to stop the tickles. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes shut as you drowned yourself in the sensation of his lips on your neck, and the suction he applied so delicately, and perhaps even a bit roughly. It was a bit more aggressive than his kisses, but it didn’t matter. 

It felt nice, and it made you felt like you had taken an ambrosial drink. 

But the only thing you were drunk off of, was his love. You found yourself lost in your thoughts of how he would feel, what it would be like if you would mess up, the latter fueled by your uncertainty and nervousness no doubt. In your thoughts, you barely noticed the increasing desire to have him between your legs, to alleviate the tension that was coiling in your gut. 

Your hips had begun to move on their own accords, subconsciously grinding against him to give you some relief. It was all very euphoric, and the only thing that brought you out of that state was when your flesh had begun to get raw from his constant ministrations. You pressed into him completely, the chair creaking beneath the two of you before you eased your motions with your hips.

You felt dazed. “Can we go upstairs?” you choked out, quickly, rushed, shy in a sense, your breath wavering and shocking yourself by how breathless you were by such minimal actions. A small sound escaped your throat, similar to that of a whine, but no doubt brought on by your sheer desire for him. Your voice was shaky, breathless, and understandably needy. 

For him. You needed him. 

He hummed against your skin, chuckling at how shyly your request left your lips. He brought his hands to the robe that was still loosely covering your luscious skin. He pulled one side free, just so he could longingly trail his lips over the curve of your shoulder. “What need have you to go upstairs, darling?” He pushed a few things over on his desk and picked you up to place you there. 

One of your breasts was now revealed and he couldn’t help the growl that resonated in his chest at the sight of you heaving on his desk, half-dressed. Delicious. He pulled away from your body only briefly, just to dangerously trace a thin red line with his claw over your neck, down the top of your shoulder, to circle around your nipple. He could feel the flesh harden under his touch and it had his grin sharpen in interest, just as a heated chill ran down your spine.

He brought his lips to the teased peak, wrapping around the little bud with interest. He swirled his tongue daringly around the aroused flesh before suckling on you. Oh, it felt so wonderful to please your body in such a way, he felt such delight swarm through his veins, buzzing in his bones. One of his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, tighter. He didn’t want to hurt you in this most tender moment, but he was still searching for an anchor in the reality of it all. 

You would forever be his anchor to the moment at hand, even when you were so perfectly breathless. 

Your words died in your mouth as your skin was greeted by the room. Your heart felt like it very well might explode if it beat any faster, your nails gripping into the exposed wood, even as one sleeve of the robe settled half-way down your arm. The sensation was wonderfully, grotesquely lewd; and it had your skin buzzing in a way that you hadn’t originally deemed possible. 

But the thing that caused a sound to escape you, was the fact that you couldn’t feel him between your legs anymore. A small sound, paired with the pleasure of what he was making you feel now. You closed your eyes, your lips parted just slightly as he continued his actions. As much as you never wanted this to end, you were pretty damn sure you had never in your life  _ been _ so ready. 

“Because I don’t think it’s best to lose—“ you let out a gasp, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t believe how breathless and affected you were by him, and by how much you so desperately needed each other. “... Ourselves on your desk, Al.” Your words were strained as you reopened your eyes to gaze down at him, attached to your breast. The sight alone made you want to frame it forever, but in your mind, you doubted that the sight would go amiss. 

It was too precious.

Once again, you made laughter rumble in his chest. He pressed his lips to your nipple in a kiss before he pulled away. He wanted to make this a memory that would be forever etched upon his lips. He only moved to the other side of your chest, using his teeth to pull the other side of your robe down. 

“I don’t feel lost at all, little one.” He murmured into the side of your breast, his open mouth breathing warmth onto your skin. “I feel rather found, actually.” He wrapped his lips around your nipple and gave you a gentle bite, not hard enough to break the skin, only enough to tickle you. 

A deep sound made his throat vibrate, and he shut his eyes in bliss as he slowly lifted his gaze to your face. “I don’t know what you’re speaking of. Anyone I’ve lost has found their way back to me.” He propped his chin on your sternum, resting in the valley of your breasts. “But do go on. I’ll just busy myself here while you explain everything.” He smiled playfully up at you before sliding his hands around you to tug the robe off of you from behind, allowing the fabric to pool onto the surface of his desk. 

He slid his hands over your skin as a sculptor would over clay. But the only difference was you were already a masterpiece. You would work to find yourself in this form, but he would worship at the altar of your body. He laid down a pathway of kisses from your chest down the softness of your belly, kissing each side of your belly button. He slowly pushed your thighs apart and pushed his seat forward. “If you would lay down for a moment, my dear, there’s something I’ve been longing to do.” 

He was so poetic, even when not meaning to be, and it had you swoon over him more times than you could count. The amount of control he had was astounding because you felt like you were snapping at the seams with each moment he toyed with you. You wanted him in every single way, and perhaps that was a bit selfish, but you also wanted to fill all of the particularly lewd and graphic thoughts that had begun to swirl in your mind.

You didn’t feel sober, instead you felt extraordinarily drunk. You weren’t entirely sure if he needed you to be blunt or not, or if he was just being  _ Alastor.  _ Whatever the case was, your breath hitched in your throat the moment he applied pressure to your nipple, and you didn’t doubt that if he wanted to, in your state of vulnerability, he could bite it clean off. 

The sensation of his claws trailing down your body had chills upon chills stacked up against each other, and your breathing was already ragged. “Not what I mean,” you breathed out, shakily, and honestly it was a bit slurred as if you were truly intoxicated. “You  _ know _ what I mean.” 

You narrowed your eyes playfully down at him before your expression twisted into that of confusion. And then hope, and perhaps even a bit of nervousness as he parted your thighs. You could feel how wet you were already, but you had chosen to ignore such until you couldn’t. You couldn’t see yourself from your position, but you offered your vulnerability to him nonetheless, a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach as you lean back onto one elbow. 

Following that one, was the next, until you finally laid with your back against the coolness of the wood. 

You slowly rested your hands on either side of you as you attempted to raise your head up to peer down at him curiously before you decided to fuck it all and laid right back down. You trusted him, and with the heat that cooled deep within your gut, you desired whatever he could give you at that moment, even if you hadn’t a clue what he was planning.

Alastor bit his lower lip as he looked at your body splayed over his desk. There was something so breathtaking about this vulnerability you were emitting. It had his chest heave in a great breath as he tried to steady himself for a moment. He had been wanting to taste you like this for a long while. 

A true lover’s kiss. 

He started running his palms over your thighs, watching in fascination as chills spread over your skin like wildfire. It had the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Warmth dripped down his spine like warm honey, heating his skin pleasantly. You let out an aggrieved whine. He could smell the clouds of pheromones you were releasing into the air, and it made his eyelashes flutter closed.

How intoxicating. 

Seeing you like this, watching your arousal pool under you made pride flare-up in his being. He was the one who brought you to this state and rubbed his cheek along your inner thigh. Smooth lovely skin, warm and soft. He released a groan before slipping up higher on your person, lining up his mouth with the most vulnerable part of you. He ran his nose along your lips, his nose nudging up into that precious little bundle of nerves. 

You were absolutely soaked. 

To know you like this, to love you in such a way, it sent his heart into a frenzy. This was no longer just about pleasing you. This was about feeling you, discovering you and the wonder of your body. He spread his fingers out, holding your hips in place while he finally split you open with his tongue.

Truly, the closest he’d get to Heaven.

A gasp escaped you at the feeling of the warmth of his tongue. You could barely focus on anything other than that. Your lip found it’s way between your teeth as you watched with intensity as he began to drunkenly mouth at you in an attempt to gather every single drop of what you could give him.

What coated his tongue was a taste that so uniquely  _ you. _

The heavy, pleasing scent caused his eyelids to flutter shut and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was breathing you in, and he found that if he had the choice, he would happily drown here between your legs. The moment he pressed his tongue up inside you, trying to massage your walls, pressing his face hard into your body, a shaky sigh fluttered from your lips. You wanted more.

_ He _ wanted more.

He was sucking and mouthing at your folds, groaning into your body like a madman. He could feel your slick covering his cheeks, mixing with his own saliva as he just kept going. Internally, he briefly wondered what you would do if he focused all his energy on that darling little bud of yours.

Thankfully, he did not have to wait long. 

Alastor sealed his lips around you, tracing thin bands over the small spot, before leaving it completely. He started sucking, a light pressure, while he rolled and traced his tongue over this sensitive part of you. 

“Oh fuck…” you couldn’t help that small noises that were leaving you as the heat grew, your thighs trembling and causing his clawed hands to dance across the softness of you. A moan was returned, the vibration of his throat against you causing her another sound to announce the world of pleasure you found yourself lost in. A sea of only the calmest, warmest waves that you could live in forever. 

You were jolted forward, pulled back into reality for a moment as he pulled you, roughly, closer to his face. 

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. The sensations were nothing if not phenomenal, and as much as you tried to steady your breathing, as much as you tried to remain in this moment, you found yourself losing to the pleasure that sparked up your spine and your body.

You were positively flushed, and if your cheeks hadn’t been beet red, they sure as hell were now. 

A shuddering gasp fell from your lips as you finally closed your eyes; your mouth felt dry, your breathing picking up in pace as soft praises and pleads escaped you in an incoherent manner. 

Your chest felt like it harbored a war drum, your heart pounding against your ribcage in earnest. You wanted him closer, deeper, in any way that you could have him as you chased after that sweet pleasure he offered you each time the pad of his tongue swept over your hardened pearl of nerves. 

You wanted desperately to hook yourself closer to him, to feel him completely, but you were at a loss, as he was just out of your reach. Your hips, subconsciously, began to move on their own accord, bucking into his mouth. With what strength you had still, which was very little, as he was sapping it out of you completely, you leaned up a bit on one elbow and attempted to reach down to knot your fingers in his hair. In which you would ensure that he would stay there because you were pretty damn sure that you would probably yell in frustration if he stopped now. 

He couldn’t stop now, he couldn’t, he couldn’t— “Please don’t stop,” you whispered, pathetically pleading for that beautiful euphoria to never end.

He released a growl into your body. He was never going to stop. 

The feeling of your body writhing up into his face, your hips rolling into his hands, the sounds of your breathless pleas, he was willing to die,  _ again _ , if it meant he could stay here. Hell had never been sweeter. Having you attached to his mouth in this way, he didn’t think he had ever felt so hot in his life. He could feel sweat start to cling to his brow, gathering at the nape of his neck as he tried to consume you.

He was lost in the taste of you and the enchanting sounds you were blessing him with. He kept switching between pressing his tongue deep into your body, curling it upwards, as he noticed how you would tense and tremble so lovingly under him when he did. When he could feel your walls stretch and throb, trying to pull his tongue in deeper, he would return his mouth over the most delicate part of you, lavishing and sucking at you until he could feel your heartbeat in his mouth. 

Back and forth, ebbing and flowing, he wanted to continue this dance until the end of time. He felt drunk, in the best of ways, still drinking from you. 

He could feel his own need throbbing between his legs. He was painfully hard, and with every sound and drop of slick you spilled, his cock twitched and throbbed for the very opening he was pressing his tongue into. He wanted to pump himself into you, claim you as his, make sure you were filled with him. It only had him bare down on you harder, sucking feverishly at you while he started shaking his head, trying desperately to make you see galaxies burst behind your eyes. 

The heat of your skin, your scent, the slip and flow of your essence sliding down his throat, he could very well get addicted to you.

And he knew he already was. 

You couldn’t reach his head in time, to feel the thick tresses of his locks, to bury your fingertips into them, before the heat began to course up to your spine with far more intensity than you had ever come to know, and your thighs began to tremble. They were already trembling, but not in this manner, where you doubted that if he stood you up, you wouldn’t be able to stand. He was the only thing that mattered at that moment, to keep him there, to feel the texture of his tongue dip in and out of you before running across your bundle of nerves, to do everything in your power to not stop the pleasure that was about to reach its breaking point. 

Your head fell back as you crumbled beneath the weight and pressure of him, of the pleasure that was wreaking havoc and causing your nerves to alight with a flame that you so rarely had come to know. It was a wave of the most delicious and addictive sensations that you wanted to feel with him over and over and over again, until the end of time, and past that, too. You breathed out his name as you lost the ability to hold back any longer, a moan gracing the vicinity as it danced alongside the pronunciation of his name. 

His beautiful, lovely name.

The elasticity of holding back snapped in half as stars and distant galaxies befell you; all so beautiful and satisfying. You did not hold back your moans, the one thing you could grace him with while he was pleasing you in such a way as if you could. You couldn’t. You were completely lost in a sea of pleasure that caused all of your muscles to stiffen a single time before relaxing completely. 

And when you finally came up for breath after drowning under that wave of intense heat, you had never quite felt so satisfied. But such a thing only fueled your lust, and your desire to feel him completely. You sat up, slowly, after taking a long moment to collect yourself, and attempted to bring your hand beneath his chin and lead his head up to yours, and if you succeeded, your lips would eagerly connect with his; even if that meant tasting yourself. You didn’t just want him, now. You  _ needed  _ him.

Alastor only pulled away because you had sat up. He was panting, his face shined with your slick, and his lids heavy as he looked at you. A breathless mess, reaching out for him. He allowed you to lead his face to yours and he happily placed his mouth over yours, so you could share in the wonderful taste that was you. He stood suddenly, placing his arms on either side of your body and nudging himself back between your legs. 

The heated kisses were delightful, and he was aching to be inside you, but for now, he was content to rut up against your still dripping lips, sliding between them hotly while he continued to kiss you. 

He let out a hiss at the sensation.

His hips were working smoothly, rocking himself against you, sliding so sweetly. 

His skin felt so tight, this was all so much, he wasn’t sure how much he would last if he was graced enough to be inside you. The thought of it all made him shudder. He pulled away only to bury his head in your shoulder, just so he could pant into your ear. “Darling, I ache to feel your walls around me,” He let out a groan as he continued to thrust against you, “May I, please, I want so desperately to feel you around me,” He let out a heavy breath, clenching his teeth as his hips stuttered against you. “I’m throbbing for you.” He grazed his teeth over your neck, drunkenly still grinding against your body. 

You were nervous, but in a way that caused you to desire him further. It was a nervousness that had you fill with excitement and anticipation. He felt so wonderful, and it was all so particularly lewd considering the fact that you two were about to lose yourselves on his damn table. But you couldn’t really bring yourself to care; it was the least of your concerns. 

The sound, the  _ feeling  _ of him slipping between your lips had you let out a breathy sigh against his mouth, and when he parted, when he started whisper those obscenities to you, it took all of your will-power not to give in immediately. Instead, you leaned your head closer to his and hummed softly. You wanted him, desperately, but you could afford to be a bit coy. 

If he was taking you on his desk, then you bet your ass you would. “Who's God now?” You whispered into his tresses, breathing in his scent. “I didn’t think gods begged.” It felt strange to say such a thing, to play so dangerously with him, but it also made you feel even more high than you thought originally. Your coyness faltered though, for a second, as you let out a sigh. You were so, so, so ready for him, but you couldn’t give in. Not yet. You could, sure, but what fun would that be? To tease him further, you spread your thighs a bit further, breathing against him, before you tried to hook your legs around his waist. 

And the moment that you felt him freeze, you  _ knew  _ you fucked up.

Oh for fucks sake. You and your  _ big  _ fucking mouth.

He felt a bucket of ice pour down his spine as those words left your lips, all warmth fleeing from his veins. He pulled away slowly and eyed you curiously. He had been searching for tenderness, warmth, and acceptance, but above all, he wanted a partner.

“As I told you before, God has no place down here.” This is what people had described to him before. Awkward, he felt… awkward, and now suddenly very exposed. For some reason, he had been very offended by your words, despite earlier teasing. “I... do not seek your presence to be your God, I desire to be your partner.” He took a few steps back, unwinding his body from yours.

He couldn’t help but remain true to himself, and now that for him all the fires in his body had been doused, he was able to think clearly. He felt more naked in front of you now than he ever had. His mind was still trying to keep up, now that his blood was pumping normally again. He felt hurt.

He released a sigh and sat down in his chair. He propped his elbow onto the armrest and settled his head onto his hand. “Perhaps we are moving too fast.” He contemplated aloud. Maybe you both had more talking you needed to do before moving forward with the more physical aspects of your relationship. 

You wanted to slam your head into the nearest wall. You found yourself at a loss. “Al-“ you hesitated, unsure of what exactly to say or do because you fucked it up  _ again.  _ You hadn’t thought, again. You had been impulsive,  _ again.  _ There was a loss that you felt, most notably between your thighs, but also in your chest as you tried to regain your sobriety. You slid off of the desk, quite literally, before you stood before him. You didn’t mind that you were completely in the nude with him, and you didn’t care about anything else in the moment other than mending what had been broken between the two of you. 

And that took time. It wouldn’t come instantly. You couldn’t even hope to do such so quickly, but you still wanted to try. That was all you could really do. 

To the best of your ability, you tried to do just that. Moving toward him gingerly, without any real motive other than comforting him, you attempted to stand between his thighs, reaching out to hopefully grasp his other hand in yours before hooking your fingers in the spaces of his own. “I didn’t mean it. What I said.” You eyed him, pausing, trying to ransack your brain for something to comfort him with. Your words were hesitant. 

You were literally a walking mistake. And your mistakes were like erasing with a faulty eraser; it just made a bigger mess. And nothing irritated you more, because you didn’t  _ know  _ how to do this right. This was all so new to you, and while you were trying to figure yourself out and how to be better, you were also trying to juggle the broken shards of glass that those fuckin’ mistakes made. Did you blame yourself for what had happened? Absolutely. You were the culprit. 

But now was not the time to get lost in your mind or the what if’s and when’s.

That was for another time when you were actually able to sort through it all. When you had the patience, which, undoubtedly, was also something you needed to work on. Taking a deep inhale, you decided to just… say it. Bluntly. You hadn’t realized how utterly exhausted you were until you discovered just how daunting your thoughts really were. It wasn’t just a physical thing, either. But you were so utterly exhausted with fighting yourself over right and wrong. 

But you had made your bed, and you now had to sleep in it.

“Listen, I hurt you, I hurt  _ us,  _ I know. I made mistakes, some that I can probably never make up for, and I don’t really expect you to forget them.” You paused, a sad smile falling upon your lips. 

You squeezed his hand, softly. “But, I’m not perfect. I don’t have everything figured out. I didn’t figure myself out completely during the week. But I did figure out where to start, I think. I’m going to make a whole lot of mistakes, just like you. But I want to learn,  _ with  _ you. I’d like to be your equal, to see myself like that, but I think that’s, um, going to take a bit.” You made a face as you explained. He was still this big, bad Radio Demon, and you were still… well, you were  _ you _ . It was hard to see yourself as anything else, but for him, you would try. At the moment though, you had, once again, been impulsive. 

“I really do love you.” You took a deep breath, and let it out in a shaky sigh, before looking up at him. Would he offer you his mercy once again?

He eyed you silently during your monologue. Though when you grabbed his hand, he did wrap his fingers around yours. “We are both going to be sensitive towards certain subjects now. You caught me off guard with your comments. I didn’t mean to dampen the mood, but someone,” He squeezed your hand with a soft smile, pulling you into his lap. “Taught me that I need to be open with my feelings.” He pressed his forehead to yours, releasing a pent up sigh.

“Would you still like me to teach you French?” He nuzzled into your skin, reminding himself that of course, yes, this all was real. This was you, and he was awake and well. Time would assist in healing you both, and together you would get through this curious time. 

Despite what could have happened, and now that you were sober enough to think properly, you realized that it was probably best to take it slow. You were both impulsive creatures, and without one of you slowing it down, you would both spiral right back to where you were, grasping at non-existent explanations and desires. But still, you let out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t hold the comment against you.

“Yes,” you took in a heavy inhale, breathing him in before you twisted around, grabbed your robe, and put it back on. At the very least, you didn’t tie it back up, simply because you didn’t really care to. It was just the two of you here, and that was all that would ever matter. Just the two of you, forever and always. 

Lightly, you crawled atop him and slumped into his lap, before bringing his hand over and lazily inspecting his claws. They fascinated you,  _ he  _ fascinated you, to no end. Lacing your fingers once more with his, you leaned your head back against his chest and peered up at him, curiously. A bit sheepishly, and more guilty than you wanted to feel. How much different would it have been if you didn’t say the first thing that had come to mind? You had been trying to notice it more, tried to be less impulsive, but you were bound to stumble. Especially in a situation that neither of you could have anticipated. 

A natural instinct that you had to fight, and fight you would. For him. For the two of you. You wanted to be  _ better  _ than this, you wanted to learn how to… let go of your past and move on with  _ him.  _ You were annoyed at yourself, that much was for sure, and it became increasingly obvious how much harder this was going to be than you had originally thought.

But eventually, you hoped you would get the hang of it. Maybe you didn’t…  _ have  _ to do it alone. “Teach me, please.” Everything. All the experience he had under his belt, all the things you had yet to learn. French was the last thing on your mind, at that moment, and you still had a lot more thoughts to put to rest, but at least you both had the rest of eternity to figure it all out.

And Lucifer knows you needed it. 

You both did. 


	59. Dig Up The Bones

There had been a time and place for certain activities, as there always was; there was also a time when you could say different things and not have it have consequences. To say with the most confidence you could possibly muster and had ever felt for as long as you could remember, you had royally fucked up. But this learning process was a game. You learned through effort and mistakes how not to go about doing things, and when you succeeded, you were presented with a prize that had enough merit and value to stun nations.

It shocked you to think that _ you _, an amnesiac who wore her heart on her sleeves, could possibly tame a beast as wicked and primal as the Radio Demon. An entity that sparked fear into countless souls, thrived and fed off of their flesh and tears, could possibly fall for you. But as you finished the lesson in French (which you had undoubtedly butchered beyond belief), you were at a loss with how gentle and so un-Alastor he could be. 

Months ago you would have agreed with Vaggie’s story of how he had toppled overlords just for the raw satisfaction that disarray brought. 

You would have eagerly eaten up any information to further your distrust and abhorrence. How he had gone by many descriptions that were not limited to: A wicked spirit of mystery, a violent monster of chaos, one of the most powerful beings Hell had ever seen, and the one individual that had chased after you for what felt like centuries but in retrospect, could not have been more than a few months.

But as you fell asleep in his arms, the one thing that you knew for certain was that not a soul would see the side that he bared to you, the side of _ vulnerability. _He was your possession, this being that had manifested in Hell decades ago; your partner, the one that you could promise yourself to for the rest of eternity. Love would never be a smooth road for the two of you, but it would always come back to how much you actually cared for one another. 

For the first time in what seemed like forever, the thoughts that ushered you to sleep were not ones of doubt or confusion, but instead appreciation and relief that, once again, you were within his grasp and for as long as time continued to tick, and long after that, you would be together. Nestled into him in contentment, your rest had never been more sweet. 

Comatose spun you into a land of dreams, some too far-fetched to be believable, but making sense during your rest; others were forgotten the moment reality knocked at your door and brought you into the day-to-day existence you had come to know. You remained there, pressed into his side, your limbs entangled in a lovely knot until you had come to grips with waking up. A small inhale broke the silence; a hum rumbling over the chest you rested your cheek upon. 

And to be honest, you weren’t sure where the playfulness had been spurred on from the moment your wits returned to you from a groggy sleep. Perhaps it was just the contentment that you had found in that moment, the insurmountable amount of happiness that you had found for once in your life. In some ways, you assumed it had to have been brought on by the relief of not having ton after ton of stress on your shoulders. In this arc of your existence, you found peace in knowing that, while it was something you would have to end up figuring out yourself, you didn’t have to do it alone. 

But still, it didn’t really explain why you wanted to play with fire. The danger excited you. You were truly a mouse trying to grab a slice of cheese before the metal bar came down and crushed you, you were the one individual that dared to stroke his flame, the one that didn’t fear of getting burned. 

You shifted to look up at him, a coy smile forming upon your lips, the words following coming from a spur of a fleeting feeling: “I bet I’m stronger than you are.”

Now you were just beating a dead horse, because you _ knew _ how untrue that phrase was. Alastor had shown you an innumerable amount of times before that he could not only pick you up with ease, but he could probably break all of your bones and cause your bodily functions to cease altogether if he so desires. It was like a mouse playing with a cat, a fish playing with a shark, something that sounded so outrageously ridiculous that it couldn’t help but _ be _true. 

A sleepy groan met you. “This is coming from someone who always complains how heavy I am?” 

And then you were rolled onto your back as he laid heavily on _ your _chest. 

“Always so mouthy, eager to play with dangerous things,” he tutted. “Children should be much more careful with wild animals you know.” A playful chide as he dropped himself entirely onto you. While he still felt anxiety over the relationship you shared, and the choppy water you were riding in, there was some sort of safety in the depths; for you at least he was certain. But deep inside him, the once harmonious corruption of his dark soul felt wary, for he was left wondering if you could ever accept him fully.

He had tormented you, trying to find out what he wanted from you, and had done far more harm than good. But it had spurred an incentive of change within him towards you, which was all he thought necessary. Still, what would you do if you were faced with his select tastes; the ones where he adored spilling blood, eating flesh of sentient beings, inflicting pain on those who angered and or spurned him?

_ What would you do? _

He let out a long morning groan, rubbing his forehead onto your sternum. “It’s too early for your games.”

You let out an _ ‘oof’ _ at the sudden weight upon you, just as you were practically crushed underneath him. There were a lot of things you were willing to learn, but you were still incredibly stubborn in what you believed, and you doubted anything would ever change that. 

“Good thing I’m not a child.” You readjusted yourself to the best of your ability to look down at him, but all you were met with, was a head full of pigmented red hair and ears that tickled your face. You made a face, before you brought up a hand to push his hair away from yourself. 

“And good thing you’re not a wild animal,” you breathed, “even though, sometimes, you act like one.” A laugh escaped you, then. “But whatever you say, Mr. Time has no real meaning.” Your voice was still plagued by sleep.

And how did he even know what time it was? He didn’t even have an alarm clock! 

“Time has no meaning down here, you foolish creature.” He ran his nose along the soft side of your breast through your sleep shirt and let out a sigh, the breath ruffling your clothes for one a moment. “Nothing has meaning unless you give it such. You must find it yourself, and do with it what you will. Such is life for the damned.” He sat up, quickly, straddling your waist and eyeing your form. 

“Which stands to reason, what ever shall you do with your time now?” His hands fell to either side of your head, his eyes searching yours, trying to find some semblance of truth, love, perhaps even acceptance of the discord that he was the epitome of. Or perhaps he was searching just for how you really felt, whether you truly sought him out for him, or simply because he was the first thing you latched onto when he showed you true kindness and love.

… Which was irrational just as much as it was invalid. If it had been true, you would have gone straight to Charlie, not to him. 

While all of these thoughts and worries scrambled in your mind (which you would have told him haughtily that what you felt constantly), he came to the conclusion that it was absolutely, one-hundred percent, your fault. His own arrogance did not enable him to understand how all of the different events could have changed you.

He let out an aggrieved sigh and flopped right back down. “You are a confounding vixen capable of many things,” he murmured into your shirt, “though strength I believe _ may _ be lacking.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” You wheezed out. You often didn’t think of the things that fled from your lips, but now you were beginning to realize that maybe it was time to start. 

Instead of saying the first thing on your mind and hoping for the best but expecting the worst, you needed to actually _ think. _

You couldn’t be so impulsive, but you knew that you couldn’t give it up, either. It was a part of you that had carved you into the individual you were today, but eventually, you hoped, you could fill the gap with something else. It was hard to let go of something you had always known, even if it had become more of a habit than anything else. 

Perhaps once upon a time, if you had known him in a different life, you would have been able to figure out what was going through his head by physical changes of his expression. 

But this was a man hardened by experience, and you the only thing that had become clear to you, was that wearing a mask was something that came as natural as breathing to him. It was a facade that you doubted anyone could break through, but you hoped maybe, somehow, some way, he would grow to trust you enough to let you see the darker parts of him. From Husk’s explanation, from how long you had to think back on all the past memories you had of him, it only grew increasingly apparent that he _ wasn’t _ normal, and by extent, it _ wasn’t _a normal relationship.

And it never would be.

It was unique to the two of you, and it would continue to be until eternity itself ended. And in this world, in this personal Hell and Heaven you had discovered in each other's presence, you were willing to bet none of the pleasure you were drinking in, was to be without a price. 

But, you argued, hadn’t the two of you already gone through enough? What was the price for peace? “I missed you, you know.” You said, at last, breaking the peaceful silence. It was a phrase of comfort, but the truth nonetheless. You had missed his touch, his presence, his sometimes mean words—because he could be mean sometimes, let's face it—but it would be a lie to say that you didn’t miss him all the same. 

Because that time spent away from him, as short as it may have been in the big picture, had been terrible.

And you were beginning to realize that your playfulness hadn’t been playful at all; you had been seeking his touch on you. By wrestling, he would have to touch you. It was the greatest reminder of all: touch. But now that you had it, now that he was laying upon you, you were pretty damn content.

“Is that so?” The words were spoken into your ribs. He didn’t feel the pressing urgency to move, or to really do anything really; so quite frankly, he wasn’t going to. 

There was a strange air about the two of you at the moment. It was new, searching, while still being familiar. The rediscovery of an old pathway, but perhaps this time was more… appreciative perhaps, contemplative even, as it concerned the two of you. The very foundation of who you were as people. Alastor felt pretty solid as a path, but you.

Oh, _ you _. 

You were the scenery, ever changing and evolving, unsure, forever to be different. Alastor didn’t experience seasons, not until you came along, and now even his pathway had changed, but goodness, he wasn’t even sure if he was a solid path anymore! He was a lone hiker in the scenery of your forest, lost among the wonders and dangers you came with!

Well, that might have been a bit dramatic, even for his tastes, but still! Things were different. He was not used to things changing around him. He was very much a creature of habit and he was coming to face the reality that you and he were both impulsive beings. He could no longer just do whatever he wanted. He needed to think about how it would affect you, as well as himself. It was infuriating in certain aspects of course, but in others, it was time for him to face the fact that even in Hell, it was necessary to grow. Stagnating was never good for anyone. 

He tilted his head so he could look at you. But he was positive about one thing. You were good for him. “I missed you as well.” He smiled blissfully at you. Of course, that was before his stomach released a very demonic growl. 

“Hungry?” 

Alastor wasn’t a very quiet creature, you knew. He always had something to say, no matter the time, nor place, nor situation. It was one of the things that had terrified you at first about him, how his mind was so full that it could not fit another thought, thus it pushed out whatever phrase instantly came to mind. It was also a feature that you admired, in a sense, because it was so very _ him. _

But during the mornings, when he stirred from his slumber, it was one of the first times you witnessed that his mind was quiet enough to keep some things to himself. Maybe you could learn from that.

You jumped slightly at the monstrous growl, blinking down at him. “Your stomach has a way of ruining the moment.” You stuck your tongue out and blew a raspberry at him. In return, however, the thought of eating caused your own stomach to gurgle in response. “Guess mine does too, though.” Were stomach gurgles contagious like yawns were? You shrugged to the best of your ability, before you attempted to push him off of you. You failed miserably and flopped back. He really was like a log at times, but one you really wouldn’t mind being trapped under. 

“I surrender, you’re heavier!” Alright, so _ maybe _you had a bit of a dramatic flare to you, too.

“Oh but I thought this was supposed to be a feat of strength, my dear! Go on, lift me with your stunning prowess!” He was grinning at you like the absolute jackass he was, the edges of his eyes crinkled in amusement, an eyebrow raised in a condescending manner.

You huffed. If anything, you knew that when he pinched his eyes it didn’t mean anything _ good. _Mischievous bastard. You narrowed your eyes and placed your hands on his shoulders before trying your damnedest to push him off of you. 

“Ugh! Off!” You knew your battle was lost before it even started. 

“Oh fine, fine, it was you who started it anyway.” He huffed, pushing off of you with a smug grin. He stretched his arms over his head with a lovely moan, his spine cracking in response to him sitting up. You winced; that didn’t sound healthy. He looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Someone needs to learn to finish what they start!” He sang, leaning over enough to show you his beaming smile, each individual tooth glinting with hidden danger. He let out a chortle and stood, making his way happily into his closet. 

For once, he was feeling like something else. If he wasn’t going out, he was going to have fun. 

And to do that for him meant dressing up. 

He was a smug asshole of a man, and as much as you wanted to absolutely despise him for it, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your face when he chided you playfully. As he went to the closet, you sat there for a long moment. And then you got a wonderful, _ terrible _idea.

Which was something you were better off not having, if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

If your grin could have widened anymore, it would have engulfed your face completely. Sliding off of the bed, you grabbed the throw blanket that found its place at the edge of the bed, and began to creep towards him. He could probably hear you, honestly, but you didn’t really care. You still harbored that playful flare, and now that he reignited it, you weren’t going down with a fight!

The moment you were behind him, you attempted to throw the blanket over his head, snickering mischievously all the while. You were so evil.

Alastor let out a pained sigh, letting the blanket drape over half his face and his now bare shoulders. He turned around, a playful glare on one eye as he faced you. He plucked the blanket off of his body and quickly snatched you up inside it, using the blanket as a bag. 

“If I need to keep you in there while I get dressed, do let me know darling, I haven’t played potato sack since my youth, and never have I been the holder! What fun!” He jiggled you a bit over his shoulder, spinning around in the space of his closet, ignoring your pleas. 

“Ah! No fair! This _ isn’t _ fair!” You tried, desperately, and fruitlessly, to free yourself from the clutches of your own captor. This was such! Bullshit! Ugh! But still, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh through your own useless pleas as he spun you around. It made you dizzy, obviously, but alas, you could do little else but wait for the rollercoaster to end while you were in a burrito blanket.

“Al, lemme down!” 

“When are you going to learn, little sharkling, your actions have consequences!” 

He swung the bag back around so your warmth would be pressed to his chest. He caught your elbows from under the blanket, and shook your head free. “So, what have we learned?” He kissed your temple and placed you back on the ground. 

You practically collapsed against him as the world spun around you. Honestly, if you had been in a television show, you probably would have had stars circling around your head. Or, was it birds? “That I think I’m going to be sick…” you murmured into his chest. He was so lucky he couldn’t be manhandled by other demons. 

You, however, were just there to be a throw toy at times, you were sincerely starting to believe. But as he placed you down, and you were able to readjust to your surroundings, you felt the unending desire to get revenge. You knew exactly when he wanted you to say, but when he kissed your temple, your eyes narrowed, and you reached up to pinch his arm. “And to finish what I started.” 

And then you fluttered your eyelashes up at him, _ innocently. _If your smile said anything, you knew you were being just as much a dipshit as he was.

He blinked at you. He could only release a sigh in response. “Why are you like this?” He grabbed the blanket up off the floor and was very tempted to tie you up in it, but he mercifully refrained. Instead, he threw it back over your own head and took your shoulder to push you out of the closet. While you were struggling, he tried to get dressed. 

All you could see was darkness, and your grin had faltered into a frown as you tried, desperately to get the blanket off of you. The moment you were free, you balled the blanket up and threw it right back at him, before sticking your tongue out at his turned form. Your stomach growled for the umpteenth time, then, and you released your own sigh. 

“Can I go down to the kitchen?” He was getting changed, anyways. You didn’t see why he didn’t just do the snappity thing. Maybe he was practicing patience, but why couldn’t he do it some other time? You were hungry.

From under the blanket, as he stood in his closet, “Please, be my guest.” 

You turned around to face him with wide eyes. “Really? Will… you be okay? I’ll be right in the kitchen, I promise.” As if he hadn’t already said yes.

“For the love of all the damned, let me get dressed in peace.” He shot you a look over his shoulder, his brows were raised and his lips were still pulled into his trademark smile. “I’ll be alright, unless of course you’re going out in which case…” He paused and looked to the wall shiftily before looking back at you. “Wait and I will join you in a moment.”

_ Well fine. _

You had to hold back the desire of crossing your arms and staying inside the closet just to piss him off. But! You had learned and you would do the right thing! You blinked before you nodded silently, You didn’t really mind that you weren’t dressed properly, because it wasn’t like you were going anywhere as he had so claimed; no, the only place you were going, was the kitchen. The kitchen, hopefully, was full of things that you could munch on. 

Perhaps you could even make him breakfast if he took long enough. Knowing him, he probably took longer than you did when you were going out. It all had to do with his flare of entertainment, always searching for a way to be flashy. Always finding ways to remind you that he was, indeed, _ Alastor. _

It was a bit disorienting traversing through the halls of a house that you barely knew, but it didn’t take very long for you to reach the living room, or as you had internally began to claim, the death room, as it was wall to wall with dead taxidermied deer. It was quiet, with how the red morning light streamed through the windows. The floors creaked every few steps you took, as if the planks of the hardwood floor weren’t all that up to date. 

But just as you were about to head into the kitchen, the sound of something scratching at the front door caught your attention. You paused, and the sound stopped for a second, and just as you were going to shrug and mark it up to your imagination, it came again, along with that… _ cry _. 

You squinted. 

“Oh shit.” Oh shit, indeed! “Critter,” you gasped out, your feet leading you towards the door before you opened it, just a crack to see the small snout. Did he look bigger, or was it just you? “Critter!”

It had been so long! Critter had thought the Smal Big One had abandoned him! His feet softly stomped their way into the house, trying to get closer to you. His parents had been feeding him, but their snacks were not as good as the stuffs he was used to! The stuffs you had given him! Because he was the good boy! He placed his head on your shin, blinking his many eyes up at you. He missed you. 

“Uh, bud, I don’t think you can— hey, wait!” He was covered in mud and water and, honestly, it had taken you a minute to actually recognize him. It was moments like these where you wished he could legitimately understand you and why he couldn’t come inside the house. But he was already in the house, and as he laid his head near your foot, it made mud stains all along your pant leg. There was now mud entirely around the entrance of the door. 

“Oh no…” 

And to make matters worse, Alastor chose to make his grand entrance into the kitchen right then and there. Then he took a pause as he saw the child of his dearest guard gators in his home, looking rather affectionate with you. His darling little Critter. 

You, however, could feel yourself deflating because the alligator trekked mud throughout the entirety of the entrance. Would he be mad? Nervous sweat began to form at the base of your forehead as his eyes fell to the alligator who was still insistent on slapping his tail onto the wooden floor, splattering mud onto the walls and furniture.

“Critter.”

That voice! Critter turned and saw the BIG Big One! It had been a long time. He hurried his way over to his First Big One, his jaws snapping excitedly all the while. 

“Al, no wait! He’s all covered in mud!—” You reached a hand out to stop the gator but your efforts were futile when Alastor turned to you with a tilted head and snapped his fingers, immediately cleansing the gator and all the mud that had been splashed into his home. Well, that was convenient, you looked down at your pant leg which was miraculously clean. You still needed to get used to the fact that he could just… do that whenever he so felt the desire. 

“He’s alright, I just need to have a word with him.”

“A… A word?” Did you just hear that right? 

“Yes, a word.” Alastor confirmed shortly.

He lowered himself onto his haunches, resting his elbows on his knees so he could better look at his little Critter. Gator speech was one he had first learned via magic. It was how he had gotten George and Georgina to be his guards, and friends. When Critter came along, he took him to the hotel. He was happy you had been there to find and care for the little dear. Critter did have a tendency to be quite dramatic. 

He truly had not a clue as to where he could have gotten that intriguing trait!

He started the hissing, which really was all gator-speak was, but there were many small clicks and intonations, the slightest of inflections that one must project in order to speak correctly. 

“Critter, I heard you helped my little sharkling home to me, I must thank you.” He paused. “You will not be able to always enter the house though, soon you will be far too big, just like your papa.” He placed a comforting hand on the side of the creature's snout, rubbing at the scales there and being careful of his eyes. 

Critter’s eyes blinked collectively in response, but he let out the gator equivalent of a sigh. “How much longer?”

“A few years maybe. Go back to her. She is fond of you, little one.” Alastors hand smoothed over the top of his head, scratching softly between the sharpened spikes. Critter cooed and turned around, bouldering on over back to you. 

“Alright, go on then, my little darling, he’s all yours.” Alastor passed you both and tied on an apron. 

“I- _ huh? _” You replied a bit stupidly. 

It was all you could really manage, and you knew it probably shouldn’t have been as weird as you were making it out to be considering you had seen and would still see things that were much more strange than that. But apparently Alastor could speak gator now. Apparently that was a thing! A thing that happened! “Riiiiight.” You drew out the word, before looking down at the gator in question. And then you leaned down and picked him up. 

Oh, yep, he was definitely a lot heavier. “What did you say?” You began to walk over to Alastor.

“That he wouldn’t be able to keep coming in the house forever, of course! It took George and Georgina only a few years before I had to keep them outside. I’m sure it will be the same for little Critter.” Alastor opened his fridge and pulled out several eggs and a few slabs of meat. He went over to the window to open it and let out a rather loud whistle before tossing them out. 

The sound of huge jaws snapping met the whistle, and the meat hadn’t even hit the water before his little precious children ate their fill. 

He turned to look at you over his shoulder. “Why, what did you think I told him?”

“All I heard was hiss, hiss, hiss.” You replied as you lifted Critter up. “What have you been _ eating? _You’re like, double the size I last saw you.” And it had only been a few days at most! At this rate, you probably wouldn’t be able to pick him up in the later weeks or months to come. But for right now, you were content with holding him. He didn’t seem to mind, either, so you were at least happy for that. 

“You could’ve told him anything and I would be none the wiser.” You started over to the table, and sat on the chair. There, you placed Critter on your lap, held him up under his front legs, and started making goofy faces at him like you would with a child. You were amused to find that, whenever you opened your mouth, he would copy you. 

“How could you leave him behind? He’s so _ cute! Yes he is!” _Paired with the baby voice, it was quite the spectacle.

Chester was watching eagerly at the edge of it’s master’s limit. Slowly it edged it’s way out from under its master. It never got to play with it’s master’s fun babies. The nice ones. Chesterfield crept up on the little gator just to watch from the floor. The little baby looked like it was having fun. So did you. Chesterfield rose from the floor slowly, cautiously reaching out a black misty hand. 

You were so entirely focused on Critter that, when Chester took a semi-physical form, you nearly screamed. All you could see was an inky-black mass in your peripherals, but thankfully, when you whipped your head to look at it, you recognized it before you could. In doing so, all you did was jump slightly. “Ah, jeez, Chester.” You let out an anxious laugh, before letting out a brisk sigh. 

You couldn’t really remember the last time you had seen the shadow… creature thing, all of your memories of it muddled together in a grand manner. 

When you realized what exactly it was doing, you looked back down to the alligator in your grasp. Was it… reaching out to pet him? You blinked, before taking Critter beneath his front legs and gently placing him to the tiled floor. “Play nice.” The comment was directly towards the two of them. You were pretty sure that if Critter snapped his jaws, it would just phase through the shadow completely. Chester, on the other hand, you _ knew _could have physical manipulation on its side. 

Chester placed a wispy hand on the back of the gator. Feeling was different, it wasn’t a sensation that was easily explained. Feeling another object for it, or in this case, another living being, felt like it was forcing matter into itself. As if it were to become a solid piece of darkness.

Critter blinked up at the Big Dark Thing. He had seen it many times before but had never touched it before. It felt like hard, cold air. Critter snapped his mouth around the hand touching him, only for his jaw to go right through. 

A strange hollow coo left Chester’s mouth. This led to them both chasing each other around the room. 

After a moment of making sure that they wouldn’t try to kill each other, you stood up and walked over to Alastor, who was already cooking something that smelled delicious. Whatever he cooked was great, and while you were a picky eater, he had known you long enough to figure out what you would and wouldn’t eat. Though, the chances of you actually trying something new with his cooking skills weren’t the worst. He was a good cook, and you would be a fool to try to convince yourself otherwise.

Situating yourself behind him, you carefully attempted to wrap your arms around his waist in hope that he wouldn’t burn himself on whatever concoction he was making now. “Hi.” You murmured into the fabric of his shirt, before you practically began to nuzzle your cheek against him. 

Alastor stilled in your hold before relaxing once more. There was still much on his mind. Normally it was second nature for him to find bliss while he was in the kitchen, but this was a mental beast he had never had to tackle before. He was sure it would take time. “Salutations.” 

He placed a hand onto both of yours where they were joined around him. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

You knew there was a change to him from the moment you had returned, but that was to be expected. There were times that, sometimes, you had to hold your tongue from asking if he was alright, because you weren’t sure if he would just… close himself further to you. You knew, deep inside, that it wasn’t personal more so than traumatic, and you knew, more than anyone, that all trauma could remain in the past.

You still had a lot to learn, a lot to forgive, a lot to still _ accept _, but you were trying. You were trying to take that step forward and leave that part of you behind, and in all honesty, you wanted nothing more than to do that. 

But it was harder than just _ saying _ it. You could say a whole lot of things, but now? Well, you didn’t really want to say anything you didn’t mean. You were learning that it wasn’t… exactly necessary to do that all the time, but of course, you would still have your moments where it was irresistible to do just that. Because all of those memories _ had _molded you into who you were. 

And to forget that, would be like forgetting yourself. 

And that’s the exact reason that you didn’t ask. Some things were better left unsaid, and despite how much your curiosity burned at the idea of knowing every little thing in the expanse of his mind, he would probably tell you when he was ready. Probably. Right? “Yeah, what’d you make?” You stood on your tippy-toes then in an attempt to look over his shoulder, but such things were fruitless, considering the sheer size difference, so you settled soon after to just peeking out from behind him at the side.

“Ham and cheese crepes. It should suit your limited palette just fine.” He flicked the skillet in his wrist, flipping the thin cake around the filling he had placed in the center before sliding it onto the plate that held the others. 

You hesitated. “Ham…?” Your hesitancy towards pork products was no doubt from the fact that you hadn’t forgotten that fleet of pigs incident. 

“Not of the demon variety, no worries, dear.” There was still so much he was hesitant about, as well as yourself. Even though things were good, there was too much bubbling under the surface for him to truly appreciate it. You still doubted him. He might himself indulge on the flesh of others but he would never force his lifestyle on you. Not now. Not while you were his. 

There was warmth in the moment, but he couldn’t help but feel detached from it all somehow. As if he were eyeing it all through a nearby window. He craved closeness, and yet he was feeling it all after it had been filtered through. It wasn’t a pure experience for him anymore. 

It had been a long, long time since he last walked through his life as a stranger. The last time he had experienced similar emotional distance had been when he was still alive. It was all very strange to become reacquainted with it all in such an extraordinary way. He believed he had heard the term, autopilot, before. He found it to be quite applicable to the situation he was currently wading through. 

He felt that very same sense of distance all throughout breakfast. He couldn’t exactly tell what he was talking to you about, and the time seemed to go very fast, and incredibly slow, all at once. Time was relative to the individual’s experience after all. It could have been a breakfast that had lasted years, while also lasting a mere few seconds. All he knew was that when you were both done, he snapped his fingers for the mess to clean itself up.

He didn’t even comment on how his shadow was currently wrestling a baby gator on his dining room floor. 

“I’ll be spending some quiet time back in the library today, you’re welcome to join me.” He didn’t think he would be able or much suited for any other type of activity than quiet reading. 

You were suspicious. He was so _ quiet. _It made you wonder if you had been the culprit for this type of behavior, because honestly, you knew Alastor. And this wasn’t the Alastor that you knew. In fact, the Alastor that you knew was quick in his mannerisms, talkative, and mischievous. The Alastor from this morning. This one was like… well, you didn’t really know. But it was weird. 

It was a mellowed down version of him, and he was acting like a beaten dog, but this silence and minimal speech was killing you.

When he broke it, you blinked up at him. “No.” You said quickly, a sense of fear sparking through your heart, an uncomfortable sensation settling deep in your stomach.

“I mean, uh, no, I want to go with you.” _ Don’t leave me. _Not again. Even if it was to the damn library, the sudden sense of anxiety that washed through you was sickening. You felt as if you weren’t near him, he would continue to fade away. You needed to make sure that didn’t happen, somehow, someway, you needed to fix whatever was going on here. You needed to get to the bottom of it. 

Time for you to turn into a detective.

Standing up, you held out your hand for him, hoping that he would take it.

Alastor had initially tensed at your first reaction, ice dripping into his veins and through his bones. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t keep this going, neither of you could. Codependency was not a healthy way to restart a relationship. Even as you corrected yourself, and came to him with an open hand… There needed to be a change. He wrapped his hand around yours, and rose, towering over you. 

He led you silently back to his library, his eyes continuing to drift to the adjacent room. The door that now screamed at him. Just what would you do if you were to see it all? An average denizen of Hell perhaps wouldn’t be entirely surprised. But you were not the average person who resided here. 

Which was why he was having so much difficulty coping with this change around him. 

Your entire person felt like squinting at his mannerisms, his quiet behavior. The trek was silent, and the worry, anxiety, and uncertainty was eating you alive. And because of that, your thoughts began to darken. Was he regretting it? Taking you back? You weren’t daft, and you could absolutely tell that something was on his mind. You had to grind your teeth to keep your mouth _ shut. _

The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. Did he even want you to come with him to the library? Had he been hoping, secretly, that you would deny the offer? You were so lost in your anxieties that when you entered the library, you couldn’t even bring yourself to react to the memories of you on that desk. You didn’t blush, you just remained quiet, just as much as he was. It wasn’t awkward, more so that you didn’t want to mess up. 

You were afraid of messing up again. It was inevitable to, if you were going to learn together, but that didn’t mean you _ wanted _ to mess up just to learn. Maybe you slept talked, or something, and said something you didn’t mean. But if that happened, surely he wouldn’t hold you accountable for _ that, _right? Honestly, you were just grasping at straws at this point.

Because he wouldn’t talk to you. You desperately wanted to ask if it had been because of your comment about the ham, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not yet at least. Slowly, you tried to unravel your fingers between his. Maybe a good book or two would let you escape the drama that was your existence.

He released his hold on you and settled back into his chair. His eyes scoured the surface for a moment before he snapped his fingers, summoning an old classic, one of his favorites.

It was a book full of Edgar Allen Poe’s collected works, filled with darkness, but there was a very dry sense of humor in some of his works. The Cask of Amontillado was among his top five short stories. It was something that always brought him comfort. He only hoped that now would be the same. 

You could only get a glimpse of the cover of the book before it flew towards him. Edgar Allen Poe. Now _ that _was something you recognized. “I like The Raven.” You absentmindedly commented, as you walked towards where the bookshelf held that book originally. Maybe he had more of his work. “My theory is that he was haunted by his dead wife, or girlfriend? I forget which one it was. The Raven symbolizes guilt, constantly tapping at his door, demanding to be let in. Did you know Edgar dropped dead in the street?”

“It was carbon monoxide poisoning.” He muttered in answer, blinking down at the words that weren’t registering. 

“Hallucinations and his drooping face are very common symptoms of such poisoning.” He shut the book with a quiet, restrained fury, before pushing it away from him completely. “I personally think he was just fond of ravens. Black opalescent feathers on any bird are rather fetching.” He smiled at you weakly. 

“Well, _ black _is symbolic to mourning.” You blinked up at the bookcase.

“In western culture, it is. Red and white are also common colors worn to funerals in other cultures.” He wasn’t sure what he needed anymore. 

Well, you learn something new every day. You weren’t able to see the aggression in his movements, as your back was turned. “Do you think they ever found the guy’s body in the wall, after they trapped him inside?” You reached up, then, to a leather book that looked withered. It stood out from the rest, somehow, and naturally, your curiosity gravitated towards it. You pulled it out, watching as the rest of the books flopped against each other from the lack of sudden support. 

“From The Cask of Amontillado… hey, what’s this?” You trailed off, before finally gaining enough courage to turn and look at him. You remained rooted to the spot, though.

“Truth be told, I’ve never given it much thought.” Alastor’s eyes suddenly drifted to the leather bound book you were holding. His pupils narrowed as realization filled him. “That’s an interesting read, though I’m not sure you’re ready for it.” There was no reason to hide it from you, you had already read some of its contents. 

You paused, looking down at the cover. Well, it definitely wasn’t any ordinary book, then, if he had _ that _reaction. You pursed your lips. “I can put it back if you don’t want me to look at it.” See? You could listen.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t read it. Bring it on over, and perhaps we’ll go through it together.” He pushed his chair back, gesturing to the empty space in his lap. “Come on then, darling. Let me show you my sins.” He supposed there was no more harm that could already be done, and perhaps this would give him the anchor he needed. 

Something settled low in your gut, then, at his words. Nervousness. _ Were _you ready? Would you ever be ready? You supposed you would need to be, now. Slowly, you swallowed the thickness in your throat and made your way over to his desk. Your heart picked up in pace at the thought of what secrets this… book might hold. Perhaps once upon a time you would have looked at it yourself, even if he would have told you not to look at it. But now? 

Now you were willing to wait, and honestly, it meant a whole lot more to you that he was willing. 

When you reached him, you offered him the book, and slowly settled yourself in his lap. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, why you felt like you were about to discover the secrets of the universe when, originally, you had been content with the fact that you may never know. 

“Are… _ you _ ready, though?” You leaned back, your head resting against his chest. “You don’t have to show me, you know, if you’re not ready.” You had thought you had been, when you had discovered that information about him. Were you ready to see him for who he really was? Yes, actually. But was he ready to show you?

“Sadly, I hadn’t known I wasn’t ready, but I think it better to just rip off a bandage when you’re ready to go. Should the wound bleed, well, I’m already dead, so what’s the worst that could happen?” He gently took the book from your hands and laid it open in front of you both. “You know, I was able to even get some articles from the surface. It’s almost a complete record of why I am where I am.” 

The title of the article read, Another Corpse Found! 

“Back in the good old days, and I’m assuming now still, headline writer’s get rather lazy when it’s about a dead body. If you have the word corpse in your title, it was usually a guaranteed sell!” 

He remembered when he had first read over the article himself, and the pride he had felt. That disgusting child molestor had harmed so many in his neighborhood. It had sickened him enough that he merely disposed of the body on the railroad track. He had been despicable. 

You could hear Husk’s voice, asking if you had been expecting him to be saving kittens off of the nearest tree, taunting you as you read the ripped article. It had jagged edges, glued onto the paper seamlessly. You leaned forward slightly, staring at the old, grotesque picture of the body. 

“Honestly,” you began softly, “I always thought that murders were cold-blooded. I still think the majority of them are, but I hope that you had a reason.” He didn’t come off as too much of an insane person to you. Sure… there were some _ questionable _things that he had done that you had seen online, but he always had a reason.   
  


Even if you didn’t immediately know.

“Did you have a reason?”

“Ah yes. This man had been a fool, touching the children in my neighborhood. Priests are generally supposed to be selfless, _holy._” He sneered, his eyes narrowing at the picture of his body. It looked like it had been mauled by some sort of animal. “To say the least, after giving him what he desired - did you know I was quite the deal maker in my life? It’s quite laughable to see how pathetic some people are. They don’t even care about those they hurt! Now, those meddling fools are truly the ones that belong in Hell!”   
  
  


“What did he want?”

He shook his head. “Oh, you know...” He rolled his wrist. “Wealth is one of the most commons things that were asked for, if I’m honest. Considering the times, it was rather swell to be me.”

“I enjoyed tormenting him, and I remember it fondly, darling! Oh, I remember them _all._” A priest. How laughable! When the entire scandal about the Catholic Church had come up on the surface, Alastor had made it a point to search out all the members of the clergy that had fallen, and he had feasted on them. There were times he was happy news did spread so fast. 

If you had learned of this earlier on, you probably would have lost touch with all the things that had made you feel sane, but the longer than you remained in Hell, the more you were beginning to become numb to it. You knew that if you got out more, you probably would have been completely converted, but as you looked at this with your humanity, while you didn’t agree with the murder, sometimes, well… Sometimes it was for the best.

You reached out and attempted to turn to the next page. “What he did was selfish.” You said in agreement, but you weren’t sure what he was expecting you to do. Was the murder right? Probably not. 

But the longer you sat with him, the longer he showed you these grotesque things, it solidified your belief that it was going to take a whole hell of a lot more than… memories to take you away from him. It had been like that before, it had been the exact thing to tear you apart in the first place, and while you felt a bit uncomfortable reading these things, you weren’t going to run away.

You weren’t going to leave him.

If this was who Alastor was, someone who _ avenged, _then you would have to learn to accept him as he was. And he would have to learn to do the exact same thing if this was going to work. 

“How... about this one?” You pointed to a page.

Alastor hummed, eying another lackluster title. 

“This one was when people started catching on! When they realized it had been a pattern and they named me the St. Louis Ripper. Ha-ha! It was all very drab considering I never ripped apart any women. No, they were disposed of quietly.” He paused for a moment to scan the article, and if you turned your head to look at him, you would have seen how at loss with his past he really was.   
  


God, he was morbid and completely off his rocker.  
  


“All of my targets had mostly been men, considering. Funnily enough, they all had come to me! Men who would desire women, men, wealth, perhaps even ways to get remove another soul off of Earth.”

”... Have you ever hurt a child?”

He looked at you as if _you _were the one that was insane. “Goodness no! I was a solitary child myself, but as I got older, I had a soft spot for the little ones who would come to my mother’s restaurant, the ones who sought to see harmless tricks!”

Alright, so he definitely had a skewered sense of morality. But at least he wouldn’t hurt a child. 

“For some reason they found no danger in me, though, I suppose I never gave them a reason to.” His lips curled into something of a monstrous grin. Alastor was an enigma, he was telling you these things because he wanted to - and he was absolutely fucking dangerous when he wanted to be. 

Your head was rested against his sternum as he explained. Rip out the weeds from the roots. Alastor’s actions had meaning, harboring some actual _ good _in the deepest and cryptic ways of his actions. He rid the world of the ones that wanted to tear it down.

“Is this why you’ve been so quiet?” You slowly reached out for the book and closed it, attempting to grab it and place it on his desk for a moment. “Because you were afraid that I was going to leave you again after I found out about this?” You leaned back again, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Not this, necessarily.” He tapped his finger against the book a moment. “I was cast down as a sinner for plenty of reasons, some of them lay in this book. My demon form took on another intriguing feature, as I’m assuming you’ve noticed how many scars I own - the ones that lay scattered about my skin?”

“Yes. I did. I do.”

“Every scar is one of my sins. You see, I found and still do find joy in my tormenting of others. When I found myself in Hell-”

“But I’m not afraid of you.” You cut him off.

He let out a chuckle. “Yes, I’m very well aware, darling! For the moment you’re not, but that moment I lost myself when I was drunk, or in the beginning where I haunted you?”   
  
You deflated slightly as he continued:

”You were afraid then, and you’ll likely eventually fear some aspect of my personality or my tendencies later on down the line. Which is why I need you to know,” He took a pause and a breath. Goodness, he hadn’t spoken so much in days! He was out of shape. Perhaps part of the reason he was so skinny is because he had learned to stop breathing. 

What a calorie buster! Incredible.

“Despite all my dark predilections and desires, the one thing I wish to keep completely perfect… Is you. I find your innocence refreshing, tantalizing, curious. And while you are naive, your willingness to learn is captivating and alluring to me.” He lowered his head to press his lips to your forehead, his tone adopting a more sincere one. 

“My intentions are innocent with you, darling, I want to grow with you, never without you.” His arm wrapped about your waist, holding you tightly to him. He wanted you here, because you wanted to be here. You needed to know everything so you were able to make a truly well informed decision. 

You deserved as much.

“If I had the choice to wake up with amnesia again, I wouldn’t take the offer.” You twisted yourself around then, awkwardly, but you managed to somehow straddle him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but whatever. “I want to know you, Al. I want to remember everything we went through, even the bad parts.” You reached up towards him and placed your right hand against his cheek. 

“You’re right, I’ll probably be afraid of _ what _ you do in the future, but I’m not afraid of _ you.” _Whatever your words meant to him, you hoped that they wouldn’t sound too cliche. You had a tendency to do that, sometimes, but you were being truthful. 

“I adore that you’re patient with me, you know that I’m younger than you, and you’re willing to teach me. You’re willing to show me all of these wonderful, crazy, and terrifying situations, and I want to experience it all with you. I love you because you’re not _ afraid _to be who you are, you want something and you take it with an iron grip.” You made a fist with your other hand, a bit playfully, and flexed.

A laugh escaped you then, before you rested it against his shoulder. “I’m not going to learn everything all at once, and it might take a long time to get up to par with you, but you… _ You _alluring, beautiful creature. You’re a bit kooky at times, I admit, but I think that makes you, you.”

You took a deep breath. “No one will ever surpass you.”

And that was the truth. You didn’t exactly know what else to say other than that; you had never been great with expressing yourself through words, and you _ definitely _didn’t have impeccable improvising skills as Charlie did. Action came first, and the one way to do that, was the show him through time that you weren’t going anywhere. You weren’t proud of your past decisions, but you had learned your lesson. 

You both did.

That slow, genuine smile of his was on his lips, and the tension in your shoulders eased.

“Good. Good. Then there’s just one more thing I need you to see.”


	60. Slaughterhouse

You blinked. 

One more thing you needed to see? But hadn’t you just told him that you didn’t care about his darkest desires? That whatever wicked, vile scheme he could imagine wouldn’t mess things up? Well yeah, sure you hadn’t necessarily been that great with coming to terms with…  _ that _ until recently, but you were doing better! You didn’t exactly blame him for holding that uncertainty against you, even if it was a subconscious decision. You were beginning to learn that it was going to take a bit more than words to reveal the truth, despite your efforts already. 

Perhaps, though, he was simply opening more of himself up to you. Alastor would always have secrets, you knew, and maybe given time, Hell would corrupt you and cause you to get some as well— but not the type that could destroy your relationship. You would never let it come to that again, you couldn’t. Just recalling it made you grip onto him a bit tighter to ensure that he too, was actually there. That this was all real, that you had officially, at that moment, confessed your love to him. 

It was no longer a passing phrase uttered upon careless lips. You wanted that phrase to hold meaning, truth. Love was not a promise that could be kept up, it was the single most eternal representation of your dedication and affection for him. You wanted him to know that each time you said it, you meant it. You had heard stories of couples who would grow to weary of each other and simply say it as if it were common knowledge; no longer a phrase uttered in the clarity of the moment, something that wasn’t uttered with meaning. It was just a word. 

You didn’t want that to happen, and you refused to believe it ever would. You would do your damndest to ensure that each time you said it, he would feel the similarity between your emotions and physical reactions. How your stomach twisted, how a kaleidoscope of butterflies would burst inside you and make you feel feather-light, how it made you have a comfortable warmth start in your chest and make its way to your cheeks as if you had sat too close to a campfire and the heat at lapped at your skin. The way he made you feel was something you would never trade for the world. 

You had learned.

You brought your face closer to his, and you were pretty certain that, while he could not read your mind, he could still feel the importance of the situation. But you would not kiss him, not here, not now, not yet. You would save those kisses for when he truly believed you so that you could pepper his face and whisper against his lips how much you adored him. You wanted to grow with him, learn with him, not just… alongside him. Was that too much to ask for?

In Hell, yes it was.

So instead, you let your hands fall to his shoulders before pushing gently off of him so that you could stand. God, that chair gave you such a crick in the legs, and you were forced to shake them out a bit lest they started to be tickled with a sensation that you could only describe as television static. When you were done, you looked back towards him, your hands resting on your hips.

“Where to next, cap’n?” 

Silence met you, and you observed how Alastor’s smile looked tight. As if his skin was going to crackle around him, leaving veins of black in his carefully crafted facade. He stood and quietly made his way to the mahogany door across the room - all the while, you followed quietly. 

The room that he was to bring you to held all his secrets, his sins, his darkest urges, and most depraved scenarios that he would concoct in the deepest parts of his psyche. For some reason now, this door that was stained with what you could only assume was blood (an educated guess considering how the smell was wafting in from under the crack), seemed much larger than it ever had in the past.

It had once been a room that he would visit often, tossing his victims inside to harness them down; there he would perform elaborate, cruel experiments, toy with the souls that had done him wrong for hours on end. Behind that door was a room that had seen more bloodshed and limbs severed than most denizens of Hell would ever care to know about. 

Yet, now that you were in his life, this little demon with the most ridiculous sense of morality, he felt shame for his natural inclinations to torture- to darkness. Yes, what lay behind that door, should you see it and stay, would tell him whether or not you actually loved him, accepted him, for all of his parts and personalities. Not just the carefully tendered way he had grown accustomed to being with you, but the way he was when he was in his element. 

When he felt free with a scalpel in his hand, carving into some poor soul that had accosted him. 

His hand flinched around the doorknob and he swallowed his fear, pushing open the door with a soft nudge, a creak crying out as the hinges stirred. This was the only room in his home that Niffty refused to enter, which was fine with him- he didn’t care for her to clean it. The stench of metallic rust perfumed full force into the two of you stood in the entryway. There were no windows to speak of, no escape, except for a small trap door in the corner that only he knew of. 

The cleanest things in the room were the stainless steel instruments that he would sanitize before and after every use, ritualistically. That, and the autopsy table equipped with thick black leather straps to hold down his enemies. Sigils and runes were burnt into the skin of the leather, so that any individual he would ever have on that table, would be trapped. He stepped softly into the room, the tap of his heel lured you into a false sense of safety. 

On a column of shelves that lined the wall, were many organs that were still moving in jars. There were eyes that swished through their viscous containment in some opaque, yellow liquid, all turned to face their new master. Several hearts still beat in a row below; on those hearts were demon seals that had been carved into the organ and removed; all of those demons, for the rest of eternity, were his. 

Some of his deals had been done this way; a true testament to how dark and evil he had the potential of being. The man clad in red stood by the gleaming autopsy table, splaying his hands over the cold metal as he looked up the surgical grade light that he had hung above. Truly, this was his favorite room in the entirety of his home, the one he had spent the most time in. All the souls he had brought back here, removing bits of flesh for exquisite meals, or to just stuff them back into that demon's throat, to watch them choke on themselves. 

Exquisite.

A shudder thrummed up his back at the thought. 

He couldn’t hide this part of himself from you. 

“This room is where I take my victims. I take them apart and put them back together,” he explained monotonously. “Occasionally I do so for others, a redesign if you would. I have helped many for hire in that manner, but mostly what I do in this room is for my own entertainment. Spilling the blood of demons, of sinners, is what brings me so much joy.” He shut his eyes, his fingers twitching on the table. 

“What say you now, little sharkling?” He didn’t have the heart to turn to you to see your reaction. He couldn’t bear it. 

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting as you followed him out of the room and to the door that was cloaked in shadows; the air was stale in the small space, but you couldn’t exactly smell the scent that would betray his true intentions to those who had wronged him. It was a waiting game that had your heart speed up in anticipation for what was to come, of what was on the other side of the door, but as he opened it and as you were greeted with the absolutely putrid scent of death and decay, you ceased to move for a good minute. 

Despite having already met death, shook his hand, and said adieu as he yeeted you into the afterlife, this was nothing short of horrifying. It was a sight that, in a sense, would put those who worked as special effects artists to shame, because this was real. No amount of wax, jelly, nor fake blood would ever surmount to the real thing and the scent it provided. 

A wave of nausea pooled in your gut as you, unblinkingly, wide eyes and all, stared into the room that was full of the darkest parts of Alastor. And there he was, at the center of it all like the ringleader, explaining how this was exactly what he did and what he would continue to do. He was really a murderer, he was really meant to be down in Hell, for only the most corrupted souls would ever find joy and pleasure in torture. And you probably would have run out of that house and never looked back if you hadn’t known the dangers he always carried with him. This room wasn’t for you, it would never be used on you, but instead for those who deserved it. 

The wretched and most vile scum of the earth that took pleasure in the sufferings of others, simply for their own gain. You probably would have, and for the briefest of moments, the very briefest, you thought about doing just that. It was a reaction to the shock, no doubt, but as realization began to settle in, you managed to swallow down that nausea that found its way at the back of your throat and let the color return to your face, slowly. You took a deep breath—bad idea—and immediately let out a cough, which you covered with the back of your hand. 

Despite every little thing inside you telling you to haul your ass out of town, you stepped in. You knew why he was showing you this, why he was trying to let you into the darkest parts of him. If you were even a fraction as fucked up as he was, you would have done the same thing. But! You weren’t. But he was your fucked up lunatic. So, if you had to show him that, despite every part of you pulling away, you would. 

You slowly walked over to the shelf that held the eyes in the jar, there were multiple, all stacked together, and while you didn’t reach out to touch them, you did lean in closer. Perhaps you were a bit morbid in your curiosity, too, if their pain was over, of course. Or maybe he really was corrupting you, slowly. Or maybe… maybe you had just begun to accept him as he was. “What’s the story with this guy?” Maybe it was all from one demon, or maybe it was from numerable. 

Gross, but dare you say it, as you stared back at the numerous eyes - kinda cool.

Alastor was taking deep measured breaths, but at your question, his head turned to face you. His gaze shot to the eyes and he straightened himself out. He still felt nerves wrecking through his system, making his movements less graceful than he was used to, slower. 

“Those are all from different demons…” His eyes zeroed in on the jar. Every eye he remembered removing, and the screams that had accompanied them. “They were from demons who dared comment on the deer aspect of my demon form, likening me to a little forest creature, harmless.” He hadn’t been keen on insults when he first arrived. It had taken decades for him to ‘calm down’ as it were. 

But now, it was exceedingly rare for a demon who chose to make light of his antlers or his tail, if they were of the select few who knew of it. “I was rather sensitive for a few decades, taking such witless insults to heart, so I took their eyes. If they can’t see me… I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

Those moments had been so satisfying. He distinctly remembered telling his first eye victim that they would feel much better now that they would no longer be able to see him, or anything, for the rest of eternity. It still brought warmth to his gut. That demon was now blinded, working a dead-end job in retail. 

It made his grin widen.

You had to bite down on your tongue, hard, to not meet his words with an impulsive joke to help the tension, one on how they now fawned over him. And yes, you might have even laughed at your own joke if you hadn’t been trying to keep it serious. This was a very serious situation, and it would have lasting effects on your relationship if it didn’t end right. 

Did you agree to him plucking out their eyes and putting them in a jar? No, of course not. In fact, it disgusted you. It made you feel cold and clammy and all sorts of sick, and it all came back to how you had said only a handful of moments ago that you would be afraid of his actions, at times, but never of him. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You were so sick of second-guessing yourself and holding everyone else of a pedestal that they would never reach. 

So you tried your best and reached out, gently, to touch the glass jar. It was cool, and the liquid inside sloshed at your touch. The eyes, all of them, were somehow locked on you. A few of them looked to your hand, but others remained determined to keep you in their sights. You looked at your reflection in the glass, and his as well, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Honestly, you were a bit curious as to how they were moving and legitimately following you around. Your horror and shock soon faded into some sort of morbid curiosity before you brought your finger in front of it and started to move it back and forth, watching as the eyes followed after it. 

An anxious, nervous smile appeared on your lips then. It was honestly like an interactive museum. “It’s sorta…” You trailed off, as you let your hand fall back down to your side again. You turned to look up at him. “Cool.” 

_Cool?_ You wanted to slap yourself. My god, you were an absolute disaster!

There was radio silence for a moment. “... Well, the room has to be chilled otherwise the smell would be even worse… So, this is what I wanted to show you. I will not stop one half of who I am, I can’t. But I can promise to never expose you to unnecessary-” 

“I know.” You cut him off. “I meant cool, like, look at it! They follow you. It’s like a haunted house.” 

“It’s because they’re from demons who are still living, darling.” He wasn’t going to hide it. While he had slaughtered many, the majority of his victims were still existing, forever changed by his hands. 

You deflated. “Oh.” So it wasn’t… like a haunted house. Well, it was, because you were practically ghosts, right? Ugh, you weren’t going to start confusing yourself right now. 

You puffed out your cheeks in some sort of disappointment before you cleared your throat and looked back up to him after you had snuck a glance at the glass jar again. You watched him for a long moment before you settled back into the more serious, but putrid, air. 

“Now that I know you a bit more, I’ve come to the realization that...” You held it out for a long minute as you gauged his expression. You wanted to see him squirm for a minute, alright? All in all, you knew that you loved him, and you knew that eventually you would have been forced to see his more grotesque side. But now that you have, it just cemented the fact that you didn’t care. 

Alastor felt his heart stutter in his chest. “Darling, I hope you realize if you need time to think I understand, otherwise, now is not the time to hold your reservations silent. I didn’t bring you in here for you to toy with me.” 

You held up your palm to stop him and closed your eyes for a second. When you reopened them, you brought your hands behind your back and held your wrists. “I realized that this doesn’t change anything. I still love you.”

A smaller, more genuine smile filtered onto his face. He reached out an arm, pulling you closer so he could bury you in his chest. “I love you, you coquettish creature.” He bent to place a kiss on your temple and turned. “Then let's get out of here. I’m sure the smell is getting to you.” He was quite fond of it. It smelt like home to him. 

Rot, death, ruin, how he adored them! 

But you had much more delicate sensibilities than he. He kept his arm around your waist, leading you both out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind you both. “Now that I’ve shown you more of me, what would you like to do today, I think I’ll be much more…” He rolled his free wrist in the air, reaching for the proper word. “Myself.” He turned his usual Cheshire grin back to you. 

“Are there any dark harrowing secrets you’ve to share?” He would absolutely adore it if you did. But if you were hiding anything, it was most likely some sort of animal, and you’d already let Critter into the house. 

You rocked on your heels. “I…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “May have stolen a book from your bookcase?”  _ That _ was your deepest, darkest secret. “I wanted to find more information about Critter, but I… left it back at the hotel.” You rubbed your arm. But other than that, you weren’t sure what else to do. 

“Well, we can uh, read books in the library, umm…” And then you looked up to him with a shrug. “You know this house and place better than I do. What’s there to do when you’re in the middle of a swamp?”

Alastor's eyes shifted from the door you had both just left, and then slowly came back to you. “Darling. I just showed you. Other than tormenting the souls of the damned, I mostly spend my time reading, but there is another thing I do enjoy spending my time doing…” He leered at you, bringing up his hand to twirl a section of your hair around his finger. 

He snapped his fingers and a trunk came flying forward, the top flapping open and knocking against the wood of itself. “I enjoy embroidery! Where else do you think these lovely accouterments came from?” Many luscious fabrics and threads in varying degrees of red and black were stored in the trunk. “I have a lovely selection of silks and satins, but since you are a beginner we should probably start you off with cotton!” He was bent down rummaging through his precious crafting trunk.

“Hey, Al?” You couldn’t help but release a laugh. He was… like a child on Christmas morning sometimes, and it made your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

“Hmm, no that won’t do… Yes, darling?” He reached in deeper, pulling out many different types of fabrics. “Ah! This one is special silk from the first circle! It’s spun by spider demons, their family is known for quality! It’s quite rare…” He had been saving it for a special day, perhaps he would do something with it now! It was a very joyous time after all. “I’ve become quite handy you know! I think now may be the time to pull it out, what do you think, mon amour?” He turned to you, only to see your smile. Yes, this felt right… This felt natural. 

Not all heroes wear capes, and you were the only damn hero you knew of in this situation. It was endearing to see him get so excited over all of this, but he had been right— he had shown you all of these different things, you two had just gotten over this incredible hurdle in your path. 

And now you could build off of it with trust. Slowly, you walked over to the trunk and rested your hand gently onto the surface, before you reached over, grabbed his sleeve and yanked him towards you. “Slow down for a sec,” you murmured. “I just learned this really important thing about you, and I’d like to process it with you. I think,” you looked to the trunk, “instead of embroidery, we can just get to know each other.” You didn’t really think about how that sounded until it left your lips, but once you realized, you nearly kicked yourself mentally.

“What do you mean? We are already very well acquainted! Or am I mistaken?” He had really been looking forward to starting a new project. He rarely had so much downtime. He was a very busy man after all!

You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck, heat already beginning to engulf your cheeks before you let out an equally awkward laugh. “Heh, never mind. Hey, well, it’s really pretty I’d give it that—” you hesitantly made your way to kneel next to him to peer into the trunk. You wanted to bury your face into it and never face him again. God, why did you say that? And now you were pretty damn sure your face was all sorts of red, and you could feel your heart pick up in pace as nervousness made you peek through the different fabrics. A lot of them were cool, a lot were scratchy from the different textures, but they were pretty. 

Alastor watched your face darken and cocked his head to the side in response. A quiet noise left him and he settled his hand over your wrist, wrapping around it gently. He could feel your pulse humming under his fingertips. “You said you wished to process it with. Do you want to share your thoughts on what you saw?” He paused, the mood turning serious once more. If you needed an ear, he could do that. 

He would learn to listen, really listen, and think about you both before he did something foolish. “What’s buzzing around in your head, darling? You don’t have to hide it from me. If so, what is the point of me sharing my darkness, if you won’t share your mind?” 

“I want you.” You blurted immediately, muffled by the fabrics, half-way through his speech as it had gotten to the point of it boiling up until it practically exploded. And now that you had completely and utterly expressed your desire to stay by his side. It was a side-effect to the moment, the realization that you really did love him. But the moment you realized what you said, your fingers clenched around a bolt of fabric inside of the case. Your other wrist was in his hand, and at the moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to face him. Because you were embarrassed to feel this desire for him.

Of  _ all _ times.

“Darling… you have me. I’m not going anywhere.” He was almost certain that you were talking about desire. He could smell it on you. Heady, thick, and sweet, but. But he turned his head away. The last time you both had almost given in… “I’m not so sure I’m ready for that turn of events quite yet.” He wouldn’t be able to handle his first time with you, truly being inside you, and having it turn into some Angel-Esque inspired kink show. He wanted fire and passion for sure, but he wanted words of affirmation and admiration, no play on words where you were both struggling for power. 

He wanted you both to have equity in the relationship. 

You stood up then. You understood the uncertainty, the fear, and while you were disappointed no doubt, you were willing to wait. But you still wanted to know why, especially after you had told him that you wouldn’t leave him, that you still loved him, his flaws and all. Turning slowly to face him, you reached up and pressed your hand upon his cheek in order to lead him back to face you. “Do you still doubt me?” Your voice was a whisper. “Al, I wouldn’t do anything you weren’t ready for, but you need to tell me if you’re still having doubts.” You murmured, before leaning up on your tippy-toes in order to be close to level with him. 

You brushed your lips against his. “I’m trying.” To be better.

“I know, darling. I don’t doubt you and I am in awe of your efforts, truly.” This next part he hoped came outright. He had a way with words since he had been a child, but it would only work if you understood it and did not end up filled with offense. “But there are times, I feel that…” He paused, his forehead falling onto your own. 

What was he thinking about? “I feel as if most of our relationship has been some sort of strange power struggle, and when we were so close to consummating our physical passions, to hear that come up again, it made my heart ache. I want when it happens to be a special moment. I have never been a properly sexual being, even in my days as a human, but with you I do feel desire.” He placed his hand on your cheek, smoothing his thumb of the softness there. 

His voice dropped to a low murmur. His static was softly caressing against you both. “I feel the passion.” He rolled his forehead, bringing his head to your neck. “I feel all the things I am supposed to,” He pressed a kiss against your pulse point, his warmth breath lingering on your skin, as well as his lips. “But I don’t want our first time to be a mad scramble for power over each other. I want it to be a beautiful shared experience.” He pulled away to look at the sparkle in your eyes, “I want it to be ours.”

You couldn’t have known what he was going to say until he said it, you never could have, never would be able to, because he pulled you through a hoop at each and every turn. He twisted you, stretched you, forged you into someone that wasn’t so simple. On the outside, you seemed simple enough, but the moment someone stepped into your existence as he had, he plucked and strummed each particle of you, each beautiful part of your mind and made you chase your own tail. You leaned your head against him as his lips brushed against your flesh, heated and all. You could feel the buzzing, how the heat had settled into a more comfortable one as you listened to his words. 

He was the harpist and you were the harp.

“You’re right.” You breathed out as you struggled to catch your breath, for just a simple action as that had stolen it from your lungs. “It’s… always been a power struggle, since the beginning. And that’s what it’s always been about. The beginning, me not being able to let go of things that I should have.” You leaned into his hand, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. “Things that I should have moved on from, but couldn’t.” You hadn’t realized your eyes had closed as you focused on the texture of his skin, the coolness of it against your heated cheeks.

“But I want to. I want to move on, desperately. I don’t want it to be a power struggle anymore either.” You were already well aware that what you had wanted was most likely not going to happen, and you accepted it at that. 

“Teach me. Show me how to move on,” you lifted your cheek from his hand, before moving to wrap your arms around his body, latching onto him in a hug. “Teach me how to be yours.” You murmured into his chest. “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.”

A deep rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest. His arms fell to wrap around your form as he relaxed onto his knees, sitting on his haunches. One hand threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck, the other around your middle, assuring himself you were as close as you could be to his person. “Sweet, sweet, darling,” He pressed his nose to the side of your head, his lips falling to hover over your ear. 

“I can’t teach you how to do something you’ve already mastered.” He spent a moment in silence, smoothing his hand up and down your spine, massaging the skin beneath. “And some things will take time for you to move on from, and that’s perfectly fine with me. We have all the time in the world, and more to figure everything out.” For now though, “I simply want to bask in your presence, appreciate you and all of your splendor, grow together so that we may be more than the sum of our parts.” He squeezed you to him.

He adored you, loved you, treasured you. And though it truly would take time for you both to come to terms with so many emotions and actions, you would both do so together. “For now, why don’t we just settle onto the chaise and hold each other close?” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck to dangle over his shoulders, nodding into the crook between his neck and shoulders. “I love you.” Muffled from his hair and his clothing, but all the while true. 

“As I do you.” He rose, taking you with him. He draped himself lavishly over the chaise, making sure your body stretched over his in a comfortable way. “And as for entertainment,” because Alastor could not be without it, he snapped his fingers, opening the door to his library. Critter strutted in, with Chester in tow. 

“We can watch them destroy my furniture!” He pulled a blanket off the armrest and threw it over you both. 

Silently, you whispered a ‘thank lucifer’, because while cuddling was great, you would always get a kick out of their shenanigans. And for now, lying atop your partner in crime, your lover, you wanted nothing more than to bask in the presence of them all. 

It wasn’t that hard to believe that, as the rest of the world fell away, you had ten thousand reasons not to let any of them go.


	61. Change

You doubted there would ever come a day where waking up wouldn’t be confusing; your brain relying mostly on instinct as your consciousness slowly became aware of the minimal details as you stirred from your rest. The consistent click that resounded from the rustic grandfather clock which just so happened to be located in the corner of the room, the way the dim artificial light seeped in from the lamp positioned just upon the desk in the center of it. 

There was no grandeur held in the moments of the vulnerability of rest - that was all it was. A sense of trust given to survive, where your body shut down to rebuild its immunity to the horrors of everyday existence.

Primal instincts, things that civilized individuals claimed to have moved on from always laid dormant until reignited. These instances included the flight or fight mechanic, the adrenaline that made you move just a bit faster than you would have normally, a bit stronger than you knew yourself to be. As much as you wanted to believe you were surmounted to more than just animalistic tendencies, that having been a human being offered you more of a foothold in this damned world, you witnessed it daily. 

Alastor was a predator. He was a creature birthed from the confines of the darkest corners of Hell, an entity that you could not quite understand no matter how hard you tried. 

His reactions were predictable just as much as they weren’t, and the more you spent time with him, the more you began to understand how much he actually differed to the other bodies that made up this plane of existence. You could love a dog or a cat but you could never be sure of whether or not they would bite. That was the constant fear you had lived in only months ago- before you had begun to build up boundaries with him, before you had experienced the things that you had with him. 

It would always be with him, and that was something that you didn’t want to change. Whatever course fate had put you on, you didn’t have to do it alone. You wouldn't, couldn't, refused to, because as you lifted your head to peer sleepily at his comatose figure, the smallest of whispers fluttered inside of your tired mind: 

Maybe we’re not so different after all.

Why else would you have had the reaction that you had to his torture room? Where you hadn’t fled from the gruesome sights that they held the way you would have months ago? He was corrupting you slowly, a subconscious effort that had gone unnoticed and would continue to be until you felt the need to address it. If it would ever come to that, considering the fact that you felt a bit proud over the fact that you hadn’t high-tailed it out of there. 

You had been brave, you had faced his darkness, his darkest desires, and you still remained. It hadn’t occurred to you just how much you had grown in the short amount of time you had been here. It had been what - a week? 

Already, you were tapping into parts of you that you hadn’t known you had. Places that you hadn’t been able to discover simply because you had been haunted by your exhausting mind. You still had those moments which you undoubtedly would continue to have, where you were filled with the nit-picking thoughts and worrisome scenarios that your over-imaginative mind would replicate just to induce some fear in you. In all honesty, you were beginning to wonder if it was part of your personal hell. 

Had you truly been this much of a worrywart in your past life or was it a trait that had been hard-pressed into your existence simply by your placement in the afterlife alone? How cruel if that was true.

But you supposed that thoughts like those further cemented the fact that you were truly dead in your mind. This… plane of existence that you had found yourself on wasn’t Earth. Mother Nature had no say in the biting elements that reigned here, you were not in a city that laid deep underground, you were on some… different planet. It was the closest you could bring yourself to understand the true reality of it all, lest you surely go insane with talk of different dimensions and whatnot. How exhausting. 

And you had just woken up, damn it. 

You shifted so that your cheek rested against his slowly rising and deflating chest. You were pretty sure that he didn’t need to breathe - you didn’t, you had come to find out. It was weird how it felt unnatural not to expand your lungs (were they lungs? Or were they phantoms of organs that once existed?) and take in oxygen when you couldn’t remember a time where you desperately wanted to breathe.

Oh right, you drowned.

Right. 

Your attention faltered to the alligator that rested on the ground, just beside the couch. You hadn’t realized, but each time Critter let out a breath in his rest, they sounded like small whistles. High in their pitch and wholly adorable, as always. Your eyes softened as you maneuvered to untuck your arm from beneath your chest and slip it out of Alastor’s grasp as he had… quite the grip on you even while sleeping. Then, you reached down and grazed your fingertips across the scales of the growing reptile.

Sometimes you forgot that he had hundreds of eyes until you came face to face with him again. Your fingers twitched as a dozen of them simultaneously opened, the thin membrane that worked similar to that of an eyelid revealed the red vibrancy that was nearly indistinguishable to Alastor’s own. The pupils remained trained on you, slitted in uncertainty, or simply that of a predator until it didn’t. The moment that he recognized you (you could tell by how the pupils formed into large saucers that nearly blocked out the remaining red), you let out a sigh of amusement, before reaching further to trace his spine.

Aww yeah! This was the good boy treatment, back again with the awesome pets! Critter let out that strange thrum. The sound softly rumbled through him like a far off thunderstorm, and it had his many eyes shutting once more just so he could fully enjoy the touch of the Small Big One. He pressed himself upwards as much as he could on his short legs just to try and get harder pets. 

You had to bite your lip to ensure you didn’t laugh. He was endearing to the highest degree, and it took everything in you to not melt at the sight. The desire to coo and talk in a baby-voice was nearly overwhelming, but you managed by just pressing down on his back to pet in the direction of his scales. It felt like sandpaper in a sense, but you had found out that rubbing in the opposite direction could decorate your hand with small cuts if you pressed hard enough.

It wasn’t his fault for being so… sharp, but it made giving affection a bit more difficult than it would have been normally. He was growing into his natural self and soon enough, he would outgrow the possibility of you ever being able to pick him up. From your position, you wouldn’t dream of disturbing Alastor by doing such a thing, but the idea was tempting, you wouldn’t lie.

After a moment of hesitation, you lifted your head to peer up at the comatose man that you laid upon. His eyes were still closed which ultimately told you that he was, in fact, sleeping. He looked so peaceful in his rest. There was a sense of vulnerability whenever you caught him doing said things, and during that time you tried your best not to disturb him. 

But you knew that if you continued to lay atop him, you would undoubtedly somehow wake him up, be it by your actions with Critter or otherwise. Slowly, you tried to lift yourself off of him, peeling off the throw blanket to allow such movement. Your movements were cautious, slow, and it paid off. You managed to escape his death grip once and for all.

With a small stretch and a yawn, you looked down to Critter for a moment before finding yourself, once again, lost in the moment as you heard Alastor murmur something unintelligible, and then turn to face the wall. You looked back to him before as quietly as you could, you reached for the blanket and readjusted it to bring it to his shoulders, before leaning down and, after moving his hair out of his eyes, pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

Mission completed. 

You grinned down at Critter. You had an idea. It was no doubt spurred on by your own curiosity, so while Alastor slumbered away, you crept towards the bookshelf. There, you fell to your knees as you sorted through the books that were titled and sorted in regards to Magic. You would learn a lot about yourself down here, but you also wanted to learn, if you could, how to better defend yourself. And to do that, you needed to understand the basics. A lot of them were in Latin, some in French, and you silently admonished yourself for not paying closer attention to his lessons. 

Learning different languages were boring, alright?

Finally, nestled in the space between two books, you read the spine: “Transformations of the Soul,” before realizing you had actually said it out loud. 

Ah fuck. 

Pulling it out, you looked back over to the couch to make sure that you hadn’t woken him and, upon finding peace in the fact that he didn’t seem to be, you snatched it and stood up. Tip-toeing towards his desk, you pulled the leather chair back and situated yourself in it. You placed the book down for a moment to settle yourself.

Critter pattered on after you, his long claws undoubtedly getting stuck in the carpeting here and there but no matter! He liked being close to you! Always warm, and soft! The Big Big One said he was allowed in the house, so Critter planned on being with you as much as he could. When you got settled, Critter nudged his muzzle into your ankle, being careful of his teeth. Little chirps and clicks sounded softly in the room. 

His many eyes blinked up at you, widening as much as they could, as those cooing sounds left his muzzle. 

You paused the moment you felt the nudge, and for a moment, you thought of making him stay down on the floor. He was getting heavier day-by-day, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to get attached to sitting on you because one day if he tried, he could very well crush you. But for now, as the coos began and you felt a sense of panic run up your spine as they only got louder, you let out a loud “Sh!” and, following that, leaned down, grabbed him from under his front legs and put him in your lap. 

“There, it’s okay. Sh, sh.” Hopefully, that’s what he had wanted. Tentatively, you reached over him to grab the book and lean back into his chair. Promptly, you picked up your feet and put them on his table as well. If you were going to read and get into the lesson that could actually hold your attention, you were going to do it comfortably. 

That rumbling noise filled him once more. Your thighs were soft and he curled up the best he could into your warmth, His tail unfurled to rest between your thighs that were now upwards, his body laying over your abdomen and stomach comfortably. A strange chur came out of him, and it sounded more akin to the sound of motor revving but quieter. 

His head was now resting upwards atop your ribs, his eyes blinking slowly as he watched you. Such a strange little creature. Critter had been watching you for a while before he had fallen asleep. She was soft, in everything she did. But he had a strange feeling in his guts that told him that there was more. He had seen once how the Big Big One would change; he would get even bigger, pointier, somehow more like his dad. Dangerous. Intimidating. 

Critter was positive you could do the same. Maybe. It was hard for him to imagine you doing anything but being soft. But even Critter could be tough! Maybe you could be tough too!

Honestly, now that you were thinking about it, as Critter lay sprawled atop you, was that he wasn’t as heavy as you had originally thought. He looked like something that would put more strain on your body, a creature that could very well eventually weigh hundreds of pounds, and even now, he was the size of a large dog, in a sense. Just shorter. Stubbier. Stockier…? It still took a moment to get comfortable, but once you did, you were content with finding yourself diving nose-first into the book. But such a book wasn’t a story, but more so a tutorial, oddly enough. 

There were multiple chapters on different subjects, but as you started on chapter one, you began to read internally:

“The demon transformation is the most important transformation any young demon can ever try to master. Most transformations occur under high stress; some demons after falling to Hell will immediately transform from the stress of The Fall. The Fall may have lasting effects on individual's ability to successfully transform under different situations. Others have found that their transformations come later on when dealing with other demons or while they are being threatened. 

The demon in question may not understand how their transformation works, or might not even remember their first time making the shift. It is a very common situation considering the amount of energy it takes from the demon to make such a drastic shift in transformation. 

The ability to transform on command takes many years to master. Demon bodies are naturally more rigid and sturdy than what they had been while in their human state. Because of this, the mind makes it more difficult for the demon to make the initial shift. However, all demons have the ability to shift.

Once the demon understands that they are truly no longer human and have complete possession of their own soul, it becomes easier to access their full demon form. This book is an introduction and guide on how to understand and perform such transformative needs. You will find many diagrams and examples that aim to assist you on your journey to reaching your full demonic potential.”

You leaned further back into the chair. Death. You had to come to terms with your death. It sounded easy enough, sure, but why was it so… difficult to let go? You knew that you couldn’t do it alone, and since it was practically illegal to move while your baby was laying atop you, you put the book down atop his head to keep it on the page you needed. You hesitated because you didn’t really want to disturb Alastor, but you required his assistance. 

“Al.” You whispered, but loud enough to travel the distance between the two of you. 

He didn’t move. 

You leaned over and grabbed a pencil, much to Critter’s disapproval before tossing it at his sleeping form. “Al, psst!”

It was strange the ways Alastor found himself rousing. His hand had snatched something dastardly from the air - it had been aimed right at him! How rude. A long indulgent groan rumbled from his chest as he blinked his eyes open. All he saw in his outstretched hand was one of his pencils. He narrowed his eyes before they drifted to you, who looked incredibly cozy sitting at his desk. “You know, I remember a time where you were much kinder to me while trying to rouse me from my sleep, alas, I fear those times are so long gone.” 

He draped his hand with the pencil over his forehead. “My little sharkling, why must you torment me so?” 

Your mind immediately went to the dark side and because of that, your face grew warm. “Ah-ha.” You huffed, 

“Well, you see, I can’t move to wake you like that or trust me, I would have.” But you didn’t get the permission from the alligator that was nestled against you. You could move him, sure, but that would be going against the silent pact that all animal parents made. And then you offered a small smile. 

“How did you sleep? Before… the pencil?” A sheepish grin.

“I slept wonderfully! Now, what has you up and reading? Are you trying to teach yourself French, because I must admit, I don’t think you exactly had the prowess for it, my love.” He sat up and stood, taking those confident measured strides that he was used to. Ah yes, back in the saddle as it were. It was lovely being himself again. He was sure that it took more for most people to settle back into their skins, but he normally wasn’t one to dwell on certain things. 

Some might say he was, well, blessed.

His grin widened at the thought as he settled himself next to your resting feet, the desk creaking beneath his sudden weight. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his gaze towards the book that was currently resting on the baby gator. “Demon transformations?”

“Oh, right.” The reason you had woken him up to begin with, dumbass. You cleared your throat. “Right. Well,” a deep inhale as you picked up the book, still on the same page you had been on, and offered it to him. “I need your help to beat the fact that I’m dead into my mind.” And then you leaned back, and as if it had been the most normal thing to request, began to stroke the juvenile alligator in your lap.

One brow rose at your request. “...I’m assuming you don’t mean that in a literal sense?”

You snorted. “No, Al, I mean it in a literal sense.” 

There was silence.

You shot him a look that told him that you were not at all serious. “Metaphorically.”

“Hm.” He inspected you for a moment. You hadn’t even noticed the fact the gator who was nestled against you had torn holes into your top, Critters claws had easily skittered over your skin. 

“I just,” you began, “I don’t want to return to the hotel eventually and be this lost little puppy following you around. I want to learn about myself with you, I just… don’t know how to do that.” You trailed off. “I know I can transform, and what it says there all adds up. I don’t remember when I first transformed, but I remember the second time. It was moments of high stress.” And then you looked up to him. “Is it even possible to transform without being stressed out or is that just… a given?” 

Alastor blinked down at your shirt before returning his gaze back to you. 

“Not all transformations need to be under the harrowing effects of stress. Eventually, you can control it, but it is incredibly natural for a demon to transform, as stress is the indicator that a demon or person, what have you, is being threatened. But, you can tap into it whether or not you are under threat. It simply takes practice.” He crossed his feet at the ankles, leaning back onto the desk with his hands. 

It was only during his explanation did you realize that Critter had actually torn through your shirt. You would have let out an exclamation if he hadn’t been talking, but you did hiss out and finally try to pry him off so you could inspect the damages. Your poor shirt! “Damn it.” You finally released once he had finished, before you let out a hum at Alastor’s explanation. 

Critter’s claws were still stuck in your shirt, so when you tried to get it out, you had to move him. Such was life. You were a criminal now. You had to move your sleeping baby. Well, the shirt was ruined now, unless Alastor could hem it or… something. It didn’t matter right now, though. You cast him a glance to make sure that he was aware of the situation before slowly moving to sit back into the chair again, this time making sure that Critter’s claws weren’t actively seeking to rip through more of your clothing. 

“Take what just happened for example, or are you still unaware?” His eyes focused on you, pupils narrowing in on your form and the holes that now littered your clothes. 

“What?” You looked back over to him. You had listened to what he had said, agreed with it internally, and understood it, but then he just had to throw you into a whirlwind of confusion. Did you miss something? “Well, I mean… I’m aware I have holes in my shirt now, yeah.”

“But not your skin. Do you think Daemonis Alligatorae are like regular alligators? Because they aren’t.” He paused and straightened out, stepping closer to rest a hand on Critter’s head. 

You made a face. “My skin?” What was wrong with your skin? “You’re freaking me out, what’s wrong with my skin?” 

“Do you really think that claws like these,” he motioned towards the claws, “that are three times harder than steel wouldn’t easily be able to slice through your skin? Unless of course, you were a demon, in which case it would take much more force and special instruments made of hellfire to penetrate through your dermal layers…” He reached over and traced a finger over one of the thin sharp claws he had been speaking of, before turning his gaze back to you. 

You looked down to your skin, your exposed stomach through the holes of your shirt, and inquisitively brought your hand to gently grasp at Critter’s claws in which you led it over to your stomach and, experimentally, sliced yourself. What you had been expecting was to see rivulets of red start to appear, but all you were met with was a fine pale line that showed you that there had been something to scratch at it, but nothing penetrated it. You could feel your world crashing down around you, but still! Still!

“Darling, your demon body may look human, but you are anything but. And it’s time you realize that.” He turned from you and started rummaging through his books. “I read something down here when I first arrived, I think it may help you.” Where was it? Goodness, with as well kept as he had his library, one would think he would be able to find things in it! He rolled his eyes and gave up, snapping his fingers and summoning the book from wherever it had been hiding. 

“Ahh! Here we are, ‘My Weight in Blood‘. Sounds morbid,” which was his style, “and it is!” A contented sigh before he shook his head lest he get lost in his decrepit imagination. “A tale of a young demon coming to terms with their death. Of course, there’s romance and mischief within the pages as well, but of course, it’s a novel. Those things are a given!” He slipped the book over to you from across the desk. 

“How did Angel’s bat get through me that one time?” You questioned. Maybe his bat was made of hellfire, not that you would know. 

“Most nails are forged in Hellfire down here. They are among the cheapest and strongest weapons available. They also keep together a home much better than regular nails! Hell made is normally the best made…. Unless they’re from the ninth circle, then stay far away from whatever is made there.”

“Why? What’s in the ninth circle?”

His face darkened. “Sloth demons. Goodness, you would think that even Hell would pick more able-bodied workers!”

“Oh no. I had a run-in with some before.” You understood his plight.

Alastor smoothed his hands over his pant leg in contemplation. “Nevertheless in the meantime, what do you wish to do?” 

As you looked back over to Alastor, you finally brought your hands underneath Critter’s front arms and gingerly lifted him off of you before putting him on the floor. Then, you stood. “Can you help me transform? I wanna try. This shirt is ruined anyways.” 

He nodded. “I can try and aide you in your goals, let’s go on out back.” He started making his way through his home. He was tapping his chin, his eyes darting about trying to think of what you would need. This wasn’t going to be like how he had taught himself - he had fueled on rage and the ecstasy of murder, and he was positive that would not assist you in any form. Unless you were to miraculously switch personalities and turn into a murderer. 

When he made his way out to the back porch, which was far larger and longer than the front porch, he grabbed a bucket and a gardening hose. Perfect. 

You squinted down at the bucket and hose. “What’s that for?” And, “Also, maybe you can…” You rocked on your heels. “Show me how you do it first? Maybe I can copy you.” Were you ready to see his demon face again? It sparked uncertainty in you, but now you were prepared. 

“Hmmm...” He paused, his body freezing at your shyly spoken words. His demon form. He wasn’t sure you would be able to handle it. But you both had just established a line of trust. “I suppose!” You both were trying something new with each other. Open equals where nothing was hidden. As much as it worried him, he supposed now would be as prime a time as ever to show you his true form.

This wasn’t exactly easy on him either, tapping into his own soul, letting it unfold over him. The feeling for him was something akin to allowing a fire to spread over his skin. He made a motion with his hand, telling you to get back while he felt his antlers spiral outwards from his head, his smile growing with an intensity that appeared painful, thus it split the skin around his face as it widened. 

Haunting, exceedingly gruesome - a creature truly from the bowels of Hell.

Obsidian blood started to rivulet at the edges of his torn skin, dripping like sludge down the sides of his face, staining trails in their wake. They appeared to be ever-flowing, a never-ending source of liquid forming at the base of his chin and splattering against the planks of the place he called home. Whatever you had expected, it sure as hell wasn’t even close to what he was forming into. 

His spine snapped and elongated in a way that made you wince. You could see through the fabric of his normally flamboyant that had now grown holes and stretched beyond belief (yet somehow never tearing completely off of his body), the sharp indentations of additional vertebrae. His legs, which had already offered him an advantage in height against you, only seemed to instantly forge further bones to force his already staggering height even higher. Though, now that you could focus on his legs proper, you admired how they grew muscles, tendons, and angles that were most similar to some sort of… Cervidae. 

In this form, he truly was a colossal giant and he was something that had your heart lurch into your throat. His arms were long and spindly, fingers frightening and bony. 

His claws, too, had taken on a new and freshly sharpened look, twice as deadly as they normally were. He was terrifying. His voice, had he spoken, harbored a deeper tone, the static thick and disorienting. The slotted pupils that you had come to know formed into those of radio dials, and those had flickered down to your now ridiculously small form - curiosity blossomed deep within his gut.

Your jaw was practically on the ground. 

Your eyes were wide as you watched the process unfold, and while initially, you felt fear, it was soon replaced by the giddiness and curiosity that you often felt around him whenever he did something magic-related. But this! This was… 

“Ohohoho…” You felt like a gremlin as you snickered mischievously to yourself. He was gigantic, a beast, truly. Soon enough, your own face was stretched into a grin as you slowly took a few steps towards him. 

You didn’t need to, because you were certain you would be able to see him better from further away but! Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought it back. 

“Wow.” It was all you could really say. “Woooow…” A whisper as you trailed your eyes over his form. You probably should have been terrified out of your damn mind, and you probably would have nightmares following this scenario, but you weren’t sure why you felt so giddy and curious right now. The fear? Gone. Adios. Au Revoir! 

“WOW!” Could he hear you from up there? 

“I had thought this would frighten you.” 

You could feel the voice reverberate through the planks of wood, the air reacting through the immense amount of static. Your attention fell to the clawed hand as it breached your personal bubble and settled just behind you, successfully caging you inside. His thumb, somehow, rolled over your side like he was rubbing a doll. Even as a creature of that stature, his physical control over himself was phenomenal.

“You will not be as large as this in your form.” Even in his demon form, he found his eyes softening as he looked at you fawning over his soul’s form. Such softness would have originally disgusted him, ignited his ability to mock, but with you. You made his heart lurch forward and beat harder. He adored you more than he would ever be able to show. 

You honestly, legitimately, felt like a child on Christmas. While Alastor was having his internal fondness, you found yourself inspecting him like never before. The creases in his palm, how his claws were serrated at the sides. Where did your fear go? “I’m not not afraid, it’s just, I know it’s you but I’m surprised! It’s a lot to take in! You can turn into a giant fucking DEER-MAN! I just! Wow.” 

You probably sounded like a fucking idiot, and you honestly probably were, but you were just… going with the flow here! “You’re so cool! This is so cool! It’s a bit scary, but that’s the point, right? It’s still you and ah!” You laughed. “It’s just so cool. You’re so cool.” You felt your cheeks warm as you looked up at him then. “But how are you so big? Why won’t I be as big?” Each breath you took felt like you were breathing in static, bubbling in your chest.

How did it feel… to be tall?

He settled onto his haunches, bringing himself closer to you in this form. “My demon form is something quite special, you see.” There was a strong radio interference for a moment, “I am similar to that of a wendigo; I’m sure you’ve heard of such a mythical creature, no? However, I must add that the antlers are a side effect of my demise.” He paused - his voice held some undertone of an echo, as if he were truly speaking into a microphone.

Fitting.

“My cannibalistic tendencies had my soul take such a physical form. So long as I eat the flesh of my own, I will continue to get larger, enduring starvation for the rest of eternity.” He paused briefly. “As it were, it’s another reason why I eat so often, as I am often very hungry because of my condition.” It was a fact few knew about him; always so hungry. In his usual form, it wasn’t as painful, but in his full-fledged form sometimes the hunger was unbearable.

Alas, each form had its own weakness and strength. 

“Oh.” Well, as cool, very much terrifying, as it was, “if it’s uncomfortable, you can go back to your normal form?” 

“It will be easier to instruct you that way.” He released a sigh and felt his form shifting back to his usual state. 

You watched as his tendons, his muscles, the towering monstrosity returned to a more reasonable height slowly but surely. It was quite a spectacle, you wouldn’t lie, and you had to actually lean on the railing of the porch so you wouldn’t get dizzy from all of the motions. It was like a machine, in a sense. Not that he was a machine, no, but the way that everything worked together in unison to make something so unfathomably large and intimidating— it was a wonder, really, how something so beautiful could come to function in a land of damned souls. 

He was beautiful, his flaws and all. And as you watched his body snap and contort back to the man that you knew, the one that you sincerely loved, you began to wonder about the possibilities of doing something for him to validate that claim. It wasn’t something that you could say easily—love—nor was it something that you would even try to explain. It was confusing and wonderful and all sorts of weird that made your heartbeat just a bit faster each time you were near him, basked in his presence, his touch, when he offered you a fragment of his outrageously complex mind to pick apart and piece back together again. 

He was an enigma that you would never truly understand. And you supposed that was why you really saw him in that moment, with how the red natural light caressed the tresses of his vibrant hair or how the intricacies of the fabric of his clothing were affected by the environment or his own movements, or perhaps even- You blinked as you settled your sights onto his mouth. His lips parted and closed once more in a series of motions that your brain didn’t process until it did. Oh fuck, he was talking to you. 

“Uh.... huh? Sorry, what?” You stuttered, shaking your head out of your dreamy fog as you pushed yourself off of the railing. 

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I had been under the impression you wished to work on your own transformation, but it seems you are distracted. Would you care to share your thoughts, little sharkling?” If you were to truly transform, you would have to work much harder. Demon transformations were absolutely exhausting, as it was a way to harness the power of one’s own soul, turning the soul physical in a sense. 

It was for that reason it was so difficult to come to harm in a demon’s true form. The power of one’s soul is essentially indestructible. He took a step closer to the bucket and started filling it up with water. He had these out here for a reason. Typically it was to feed his darling gators, but for now, they would serve as teaching tools for you. 

“Uh,” you blanked. How could you say that you were thinking of someone in such grand detail without it sounding weird? “You.” You blurted, and immediately you fought the urge to stomp on your own foot. It was a bit funny how just the thought of him managed to make your heart flutter and all of your other emotions pushed to the side. You cleared your throat, bringing a hand to rub at the back of your neck awkwardly. “I was thinking of you.” 

“You need to pay attention, my dear. Unless of course, you want to continue to be weak.” Perhaps some harsh truth in his words would inspire you to work harder.

You made a face, scrunching up your nose, and narrowing your eyes at him. Wow, rude. You stood a bit straighter. “How do I start?” You were at a complete loss on what to do. In all honesty, you hadn’t remembered when you had shifted last, well, you did, but not how. It had all happened when you had been in a stress-filled environment. There weren’t any sort of steps you took to access it, and in all honesty, it felt a bit blurred together. 

Silently, you watched as he filled up the bucket with what you knew was freezing cold water. Your eyes, already narrowed, formed into mere slits. Suspicious. Why did he need a bucket? You nodded towards it before slowly moving up to stand beside him. 

“And you didn’t answer my question before. What’s the bucket for?” 

“It’s a tool I might have to use for later.” He evaded the question quickly with a wave of his hand. ”Now then, do you even understand what your transformation is?” There was no use having you try to do something when you weren’t even sure what it was that was happening to your body. It was like trying to explain to a toddler what puberty was. It was useless, until of course, the child in question grew up, allowing the information to sink in and be applied. 

He blinked himself out of that thought. 

He wasn’t even sure how old you were when you died. Nor did he actually want to know. You were old enough to at least finish schooling. Perhaps. He shook his head and dropped the hose. He wasn’t willing to fall into that rabbit hole.

The sound of the hose dropping with a clatter caused you to look up at him then. “Well, isn’t it just another form I can take?” You were clueless when it came to things such as this. “The previous times I did it, I was angry or upset.” You weren’t now, though, so you wondered briefly if it was even possible to do such a thing without an adrenaline high. Alastor had been down here far longer than you had, he had time to figure out what triggered the transformations. You, however, only knew of one way to do that, and even then you didn’t really feel yourself change until it was too late. “Is it a defense mechanism?”

“In a sense, it is just another form you can take-“

Was he mocking you? He was mocking you.

“-But what it is in the reality of it all, is your soul melding into your physical form. It’s one of the reasons you are more powerful in your demon form considering the soul by itself is an almost indestructible entity.” He paused and came closer to you, placing his arms behind his back as he watched over your very… human demon body. 

“Do you understand what your soul is? How tied our souls are to our emotions?”

He really wasn’t taking being your teacher easily. His tone of voice, the way he held himself- it was proper as he always was, sure, but there was also something particularly demanding in the current situation. “My soul is me.” That was something that you knew, at least. You scrunched up your eyebrows, though. 

“... Right?”

He rolled his eyes. It was such a typical answer and while not necessarily wrong, it wasn’t exactly right either. “Your soul is much more than just ‘you’. Your soul is the very purest essence of yourself, more so than just your physicality, it is your thoughts, your feelings, even deeper than just your mind, it is the core of a person, or in this case, a demon’s existence.” He spoke with his hands, motioning around wildly to further emphasize his point.

“When you transform, you are taking your core and forcefully bringing it into the physical realm, wrapping it around you like a shield, surrendering your physical body to yourself. That is why your transformed self looks different from what you do now, from what I do.” He brought his hands forward and settled them heavily onto your shoulders, making sure he kept your gaze as he told you in the easiest way he could, what this change was about. 

“That is why it takes such a toll on demons when they first transform. It is painful, and emotionally draining, bringing your soul to the forefront, stitching it to your skin. It is a feat many demons never fully master due to its unstable nature.” Well, mostly. Demon's souls were less stable, because of the nature of darkness that clung to them, the corruption. In theory, you should be able to have an easier time. That is, once you realized you were actually dead. 

It was a slow trickle with how the information settled into your mind. It sounded painful, to stitch something to a physical form, no less to yours. You probably should have felt a bit nervous in how to articulate what you had seen him do, but you supposed it would be something that you would need to do if you were to survive down here. 

Maybe you wouldn’t ever truly master it, or even fully come into your own power, but you could try. In all honesty, everything that had ever occurred felt more like an unstable fever dream that you had been unable to accurately pick apart. But the more he spoke of your soul, the more you felt yourself in the moment, the easier it got to accept. It would be a slow process, and you probably wouldn’t come to accept it all in one day but truly, even if you had been alive, what sort of life was there to return to? 

But you weren’t. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe it, no, you did. But it was more of a state of mind that you had to change over time. Time was the best salve. “What did you do to transform?” You questioned aloud. “When I did it, I was angry or upset. But I don’t think you’re upset, and I sure hope you would tell me if you were, right?” That couldn’t be the only way to transform, right? How sad it would be if you were only able to do such a thing amidst extreme emotion.

Alastor’s hand switched from your shoulders to having one tapping his chin and the other tucked safely behind his back. How to explain such a process to you… He had never really been one to teach. It was a new experience for him, and new was something that he didn’t know much of. “For me, I allow myself to tap into the depths of my emotions, let them flow over me, the most powerful ones I have felt in my life. Which have been the thrill of murder, and the righteous fury I have felt when my things are,” He paused. 

People weren’t really considered things, but it would sound so sentimental to say his people, oh well, he was soft for you enough as it is, you knew how he was, his reputation mattered nothing when you were concerned. “When my people are harmed. When the children in my neighborhood were harmed, if anyone dared harm my mother, and now, if someone were to even touch you, I think I would snap into my demon form immediately.” He couldn’t help it. There was a very large soft spot for you in his soul and his heart. He didn't do take-backs, it had always been yours. 

Your eyes squinted at the corners as you beamed up at him. You also couldn’t help it. Despite him talking about the murder and demise of countless individuals, of him speaking of the passion and thrill that he found in himself, in his very soul, he still made it known with how much he cared for you. It was a bit harrowing, you’d admit, to hear all of the things prior to his affection, but it was something you’d get used to in time if you were to truly accept him as all he was and ever would be. Emotion. Emotion was the trigger that fired the bullet, caused the tendrils of your soul to form a shell over you. 

A secondary physical form that you, as you tried desperately to close your eyes and think of all the good he offered you, couldn’t feel. 

You tried to focus on the warmth you felt around him, how the butterflies burst into your stomach, and fluttered around each time you saw him, how the world always seemed to narrow down to the one thing that mattered: him. He was an enigma that made you feel a whole lot of things, generally in a very short span of time because of how quick he was. He made you feel loved, frustrated, angry, sad, exasperated, and so many more things that you couldn’t even begin to explain. You tried to focus on the warmth still, the memories, the way he still made you feel. A positive transition was something that you wanted, and hell, if it didn’t hurt while you were doing it, that was a plus. 

To Alastor, your face was all scrunched up, your nails digging into your palms as you held your breath and tried to focus all on one thing. But as you reopened your eyes, finally out of breath, you hopefully looked down to your arms and… found that they looked the same. “Damn.” 

“This isn’t something that’s going to happen on the first try.” He had tried, keyword tried, to keep his tone light. But the disbelief at your own lack of understanding had been the forefront of those words, dryly spoken. He released a slow exhale and turned to the swamp, taking a few steps so he would be standing on the edge. 

He let out a low sound, a deep hiss. In a few moments, two very large, very menacing demon gators came up to the side of the porch. He spoke to them in their own language, but still kept his voice low, so even if you had known gator speak, you wouldn’t have been able to understand what he said. 

“Darling, George and Georgina are going to watch you.” He smiled at you, but there was something hidden, something mischievous behind that Glasgow grin. He held out a hand, and as George slapped his tail, a rather large splash of water brought a crawfish into Alastor’s palm. He popped the entire shellfish into his mouth and smiled at you with a boyish grin as he crunched into the exoskeleton with no change in his facial expression whatsoever.

“Do go on.” 

Your lips parted in disbelief at the entire display. This is what you had meant by him being ridiculous at times, not with just how quick he was, but he put a damn crawfish, raw, into his mouth. You were also talking about the same man who was a cannibal and killed countless others. You swallowed thickly, your face twisted in disgust as you stared at his mouth. “You still got that Colhate?” George and Georgina could wait a minute.

“I prefer to use a different brand, but yes. I brush my teeth, you-”

“Good, because I’m not kissing you again until you brush your teeth, tongue, and everything. God damn, that’s so gross. ANYWAYS, hello George and Georgina.” You turned towards the gators then. In all honesty, you weren’t entirely sure why Alastor had brought them over, especially since you hadn’t a clue what the fuck you were doing whatsoever. Or maybe he just wanted them to witness you fail, have your embarrassment cloud over you and take control of you. 

“I’m afraid there’s no show tonight.” Tickets are sold out. You were not performing your failing routine in front of alligators. You shot Alastor a glance out of your peripherals.

“Your rudeness is unprecedented. And I don’t respond well to ultimatums. Perhaps I shall just never kiss you again,” Oh, you had no tact! He reached over to flick your forehead. “You absolute child.” If you were going to have any success in transforming, you needed to be angry. 

You smacked his hand away from your head. “My rudeness!” Good thing you were easy to piss off. “And I’m not a child! Stop calling me a child, for fuck's sake.” You huffed, before crossing your arms. What was it with everyone calling you a child? What were you? Two feet tall? Had the social dependency of one— well, actually, yeah, that last one was right. Alright. But still, you weren’t a child. 

“Oh ho! Is the little girl angry? I thought you wanted your transformations to be fueled by love and kittens? Is that not working for you?” 

“Well, I’m GETTING angry!” 

“Someone should learn to control their temper, oh what is the word for this, AH! Yes of course, you are testy!” His microphone appeared out of nowhere, his hands spinning it before moving the metal towards you and tapping you on the nose. 

“Stop it.” You could feel the anger swell up inside of you, and if you were able to see yourself, you would have seen how the anger had gotten a hold of your physical body as well. With how your face had turned red with pure pissed-off nature. 

“Haha, how adorable, how puffy and huffy you are, my little bitty, darling, sharkling! So weak and defenseless!” He poked your shoulder and then your side, and then the back of your thigh, circling you like a predator all while prodding at your body. 

As he circled around you, your temper only grew, until it reached its breaking point and you attempted to slam into him to push him off the edge of the porch and into the water. “I said stop!”

Good, maybe his gators would eat him. 

Hasta la vista, sweetheart.

That didn’t happen.

With one hand he was able to take hold of your upper arm and hold you still. He forced you over to the edge of the porch and pointed to the reflection in the water. “As you were saying?” 

You were too pissed off to even offer him what he wanted at first. Look at the water, you mocked in your mind. Fine, you’d look at the water, and he would— You faltered, the steam hypothetically coming out of your ears fading out as you found yourself looking at something unrecognizable. Except it was recognizable, in a sense. It was you, but it wasn’t you, but it was? 

Motherfucker what. 

Your ears had formed into extended cartilage, fanning out in a row of three. Your complexion was darker, but similar to that of unnatural complexion; the feeling of your skin overall smooth until you rubbed it in the opposite direction, which you had found out once you had trailed your fingers up your arm in curiosity. It felt like sandpaper. If you had normal skin, you were positive rubbing it upwards like that would have cut up your fingers with how rough the texture was. 

There was a dim bioluminescence that beat in tune of your own heartbeat in certain spaces of the markings that decorated your flesh, surely dimmer than what it would have been if you had been in a darker area. 

But your tail, oh, your tail! It was heavy but it was flexible. Oh, you were transformed. Sort of. But it didn’t feel right, somehow. You were positively pulsing with magic at that moment- if that had been what it was. But before you could inspect the sensation further, you brought your tail to the side, and then swiftly batted it towards the back of his knees in hopes to trip him forward. 

Payback, ya son of a bitch.

He knew it was coming - you were hopelessly predictable and because he had a firm hold on you, all that happened was the both of you falling into his swamp, between his darling babies. Mud and water-filled his senses as he brought you closer. He kept you upright, not wanting your head to go under. He was still wary of what would happen with you in water, due to your past experiences with it. He brought his hand to your forehead, pushing your darkened tresses out of your face. “Are you alright?” 

He wrapped one strong arm around your waist and grabbed the edge of his porch with the other, pulling you both up out of the mush and water. He hauled you over him, placing you safely on the wooden planks he had built himself, before settling himself next to you, kneeling over you. You were still transformed, but he didn’t want panic to overwhelm you. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”

In the midst of you escaping the water, you had felt yourself slowly lose the rage that had overcome you. It all went so fast, in all honesty, where one moment merged into the next that you could accurately focus on one single second. The longer you remained there, the more you were beginning to realize how different the sensations of everything were. 

You could smell things further, you could feel things with more intensity, hear things further than you would have, and with that came the realization that there was a ringing in your ears. It took you a moment to process where it was all coming from, but the closer that Alastor got to you, the louder it became. It was a mechanical hum that you heard normally, but this was… nearly unbearable. “Your static, radio-” You choked out. Whatever the fuck it was. 

“Off. Turn it off.” You felt like you were going to faint. 

Alastor’s eyes widened before he closed them completely. His static normally clung to him, though it took a bit of effort for it to quiet down. He pulled back from you and ceased contact with your body while he settled the electrical part of his usual demon form. He felt the thrum quiet down completely, and when he opened his eyes, there was no static to hear of. “Better?” It would do him no good as a teacher if he couldn’t control every aspect of himself. 

As the static lowered, the more the ringing in your ears subsided and the world stopped fluctuating and spinning around you. It was equally weird to find that, even with the distance Alastor had between the two of you, you felt as if he were talking right in your ear. It caused you to jump at first before you nodded. “Better.” And then your eyes fell down to your hands, before you turned your attention to look over your back towards your tail, where it was flopping and twisting this way and that in a swimming motion across the planks. You controlled it.

It was yours.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you took a moment to process everything. You were transformed but, why did it feel like something was missing? Why did your soul feel hollow? Buzzing to be filled with more? Why did you feel like, naturally, you could do more? 

“Something’s wrong.” You whispered, just loud enough for Alastor to hear, but to you, it sounded like you were talking normally. “No, not wrong, I mean. Well, it’s not right either. More?” You were confused. “I think I can do more. I don’t think this is it. But it might be? I don’t know. It feels weird.”

Alastor’s brows scrunched up. What on this good day in Hell were you on about? “Darling, it’s going to take a while for you to get used to being in this form, it’s normal for it to feel strange.” More? More what? He could see how you seemed to be crawling in your skin, how uncomfortable you were in it. 

“What do you mean by more?” He had never heard of such a thing. That was preposterous. 

“I mean more. I think there’s more.” You responded as you began to look and investigate your body. “Not here, but it is here. I feel it.” You probably sounded like a loon, but you couldn’t explain it. Something in your soul told you that there was more, that this wasn’t all you could do. 

“It’s like your static,” you murmured. “How it tickles, but it’s more intense. It’s like electricity, but it’s not. There’s something inside that’s telling me there’s more to this form than this. I think I can do more.” More, more, more, that was what your soul was saying to you.

His head cocked to the side as he looked at you. “Darling, I’ve never heard of demons having multiple stages of transformations. It’s a one and done type of thing typically. This is it for you. I’m sure you’re just getting used to this.” But in the back of his head… He wasn’t as sure as he sounded, because he had never heard a demon speak of their transformation like you were currently. 

You felt drunk. Like you were under the waves, so close to reaching the surface, but never being able to take a breath. You were so close. You remained quiet as he spoke to you, focusing on your breathing as you brought your hand to feel up your arm. And then you paused. There was a dip in your arm, where you knew that the space where you pushed down was not… normal. 

“Is this the fucking bone?” You blurted loudly, before wincing. You had to use your inside voice. Your skin looked… the same, but there was something weird about it. 

“Look, Al.” You reached your arm out and pointed to the area. “It’s weird.”

“Hm.” He placed his hand over where yours had been and gently pressed on the area. There was a lot of give underneath that part, and then a very startling firmness. That was true, “Yes, you’ve got no muscle between your skin here, not even any adipose tissue…” His voice was a low murmur and he gently pulled you closer. “How strange.” 

He started looking over your arm for more places of similar construct. “I’ve never seen such a thing.” He turned you around and started to press over where he knew large muscles to be. Just behind your right shoulder, there was a similar spot. “You’ve another over here as well.” This was just bizarre. “Thought it could be a result of your death. Sharks and eels have a way with bodies you know. These could be places where they started and your soul might have theoretically taken the hit, so to speak.”

“Ew, stop. That’s so gross.” Despite not feeling any pain when he pressed in the places, it still felt weird. It didn’t help to think about sharks and eels feasting on your body, either. A shiver ran down your spine. You hated the way you had died. Built on betrayal and such. You leaned back with a sigh to rest against his chest because boy were you beat.

“Can you help me change back inside? I’m tired.” 

He smiled down at the crown of your head. He snapped his fingers, cleaning you both off. “I could help you now,” he murmured, tracing the delicate structure of your ears with his lips. “But I’m supposed to brush my teeth.” He kissed your cheek and squeezed your body tight to his. 

Your ear instinctively fluttered at the touch. It felt equally weird to move it that way, where normally, you wouldn’t have been able to. You closed your eyes as they drooped slightly. “I don’t think I can stay in this form much longer.” You felt your energy depleting quickly as you spoke, as you tried your best to hold out. It was an exhaustion that was similar to having spent the entire morning, afternoon, and night with physical exertion. You didn’t have enough training quite yet to last that long. 

“Help me change back, please.” You leaned your head back, and despite your earlier comment, pressed a small kiss to his jaw. You barely noticed your form already starting to revert back to normal, losing the few inches that you had failed to notice in your height. It was nothing compared to him.

Alastor hummed back in his throat, bending slightly only to wrap an arm around the back of your knees. He picked you up as if you were his bride, and settled his lips over yours. He knew his home well enough that he didn’t need his eyes open to navigate it, thus, he kicked open his door and kissed you all the way to bed. 

The way it was meant to be.


	62. SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER, Heart Eyes Motherfucker!

Death was often referred to as a finality; the end of the road, the finish line, so many names that all held the same meaning: to cease to exist. The freeing of a soul escaping the husk of a vessel it once occupied for a time, before moving onto an afterlife. You hadn’t been sure if there had been an afterlife when you were alive (which was a memory that you had preserved but never doted on for long since it didn’t have any grand importance to your situation), but now? Well, to say the least, you were glad that you had held onto the hope that there was something  _ more.  _

This afterlife had so many surprises, twists and turns around every corner that never failed to give you whiplash, which you presumed was the reason why you weren’t flabbergasted at the sensation of something  _ missing  _ when you had transformed. It was something that you hadn’t noticed the other handful of times you had completed such a feat, the sensation of something being incomplete, a hollowness that longed to be filled, rapping at the door that you couldn’t quite ignore. 

The process was far from immaculate, but it had been better than the times where you had let your emotions get the best of you. Or so you believed. It was the first time you had actually been able to explore your body, the texture of your skin, the dim luminous bar-like markings that appeared on that rather heavy tail. It was something that you would get used to in time as you practiced, and you found yourself hoping that it would come as naturally as Alastor did at some point, too. 

Apparently it was physically exhausting to stay in that form for an extended period of time without reverting to your natural form, because you had not only slept the remainder of the day away, but the entirety of the night as well. 

_ Oops. _

Your eyes, as you blinked them open, may have burned with the remnants of sleep, but it didn’t last long. It never did, in all honesty. You could very well claim that it took you more time now that you were content in your lifestyle as it had come to be in the past few days, but that would be a lie. It was always a new adventure with Alastor, each day so unlike the last that you could barely begin to comprehend what awaited you! You supposed you were a bit eager now to get the day started that you barely had time to enjoy the tender affection you received from the cuddling sessions with said Radio Demon. 

Alas, with good reasoning. 

Your muscles were mildly sore from the shift, but the pain wasn’t a pain more so a discomfort, and it wasn’t bad enough to limit your plans for the day. It was similar to when you exercised after being dormant, the aftermath of the exercise. Your ears in particular felt stretched, but when you reached up and touched the lobe, you were met with nothing but the normal softness of your flesh and cartilage. It was a phantom that your mind was still trying to process. 

But the process would have to be done quickly because you had  _ plans! _

You had concocted the basic plan in your dreary mind before you had passed out— Alastor constantly stuck his neck out for you, made you feel all gooey, warm, appreciated, loved_, _and you wanted to do something for him that would show your appreciation.

It wouldn’t be extravagant you knew, considering you weren’t able to go anywhere but here (and here was a legitimate swamp), but you hoped that he wouldn’t mind something a bit more… _your style_. You were creative, and you hadn’t had the chance to flex those skills for a good while. But to do this, to do _all_ of the things your waking mind was imagining, you needed to make sure it was a surprise. To do that, you needed to get him out of the house. 

Therefore, you were left with one teeny, tiny, extremely important hurdle: How the fuck were you going to get  _ The _ Radio Demon out of his own house? 

You didn’t know how many times you woke up like this, tucked into him and feeling the natural warmth radiating off of his body. You didn’t know how many times you had drifted to sleep hearing the rhythmic thudding of his undead heart, either. It was a routine that you would never tire of, truthfully. But enough being a sap- you had things to do. Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw, only to happily murmur upon his warmed skin: “Morning!”

You were nearly buzzing from the excitement, you could hardly think of anything else. You couldn’t even hide the smile that lit up your face. 

“Good morning!” Alastor, who had been awake the entire time, grinned to the ceiling, stretching his arms up and over his head. He sat up and rolled his shoulders, only to turn back to face you. “I’m rather impressed with you, it’s not easy to maintain a transformation for that long, especially not your first time.” He paused and then a slow simmering smirk spread over his features. 

Whoa, slow your roll there cowboy, you just woke up. Just because you were ready for  _ your  _ mind, didn’t mean that you were ready for his. That would… well, that would take a bit longer. 

You weren’t given a choice.

“For most demons at least. I should think you will gain momentum in this training rather quickly! Very exciting!” 

For most demons, mastering their transformation took a bit of effort, more so than what you had shown yesterday. Mostly it was used as a defense mechanism, particularly during the exterminations. During those times it was a necessity for them to be able to survive. It was why during times of high-stress transformations occurred more easily.

Which was precisely the reason as to why he was able to become so powerful so quickly. Falling right into Wonderland had been a gift and a curse! He had been able to transform right away after his fall and had only grown more powerful with the ancient souls he had devoured there.

But  _ you _ . 

You were only just coming to terms with your death. In many ways you had been sheltered from the harshness of your environment, whereas he, and many others, had been thrown into it with no safety net. 

The harshness of the Hell you had endured had all been from him, because of him. He wondered briefly if he had done you a favor because of that. He would have thought that surely for any other demon, but only for you, he wasn’t too positive about that particular thought. No less! Alastor rose himself over you and flopped himself back down over your abdomen, whereas you let out an ‘oof’.

“Do you have any plans, or shall we just laze about? You’ll need more time to properly recover from your transformation, so I do believe training is a no-go for today.” 

This was more like the Alastor that you knew, and by hell were you never going to let that part of him (or  _ any _ part) go. Lowering yourself back into the pillows, you watched with an amused expression at his sudden burst of energy. He must have been up already, then, and been too stubborn to ruin the moment. You didn’t blame him. You had done and would continue to do the exact same thing. 

Bringing your right fist up, you rubbed your eyes as a small yawn escaped you before you too, stretched out despite being directly beneath him. He didn’t give much stretch-space. Room to move? Whatever. “I hope. I don’t remember being so sore the last two times.” You breathed out before you reached out and brushed his hair out of his face, which was now flopped around messily from bedhead. “And, actually, I  _ do _ have plans.” Your lips quirked at the edges.

You blinked up at him, yes,  _ up,  _ as he raised himself from lying upon your abdomen to hover above you. You watched with a softness as the pupils that generally were just as slitted as yours dilated. Yours probably weren’t even slitted now… could your pupils even dilate like his? You never just… stared at yourself in the mirror to check. Questions for later! 

You were pulled out of your own thoughts as his face came closer to yours to the point of you actually having to close your eyes as your focus was all but blurred. You could feel him lean up simply by how his breath ghosted over your face, before feeling the softness of lips that had once been so,  _ so  _ chapped. 

Winter sucked  _ ass.  _

“You know, I’ve never been a fan of surprises unless I’m the one planning them,” you were freed of the strain on your eyes once you felt him lean back, resting on his calves and by default, on your hips. “So do share, darling. Otherwise, it may very well kill me!” He really did hate surprises. They were nasty little things, always getting in the way of his own carefully thought out plans. So very distracting. 

Though he supposed the only surprise he  _ had  _ been fond of, was you.

Reaching forward, you grabbed his wrists and attempted to pull him back towards you in which you were met without resistance. Just as much as he handled you like a doll, you could  _ sometimes  _ do the same to him. Sometimes being the keyword. Tilting your head up in your successful efforts, you couldn’t help the shit-eating grin if you had tried. You didn’t bother. “Too bad,” you snickered.

Alright, so the surprise wasn’t… completely thought out yet, but you supposed you would just have to make do! He had a lot of different tools, recipes, and not to mention an assortment of candles; you were certain that you would figure out something. You just needed to find them to start.

“One more thing, if I may.” You murmured.

Alastor rolled his eyes dramatically, the entirety of his head moving with the motion just so you  _ knew  _ how utterly ridiculous your little scheme was. “What happened to sharing and open communication?” He inquired. “And just why would I do you a favor when you’re hiding something from  _ me? _ ” He paused, and you could literally  _ see  _ the moment that his darker thoughts began to manifest in his mind, as his grin grew wild. 

“Did you murder someone? Darling!”

Was that pride in his eyes? It was pride. Yep.

“No!” You exclaimed in exasperation. 

“How would I even- you live in a  _ swamp!  _ Literally no one comes here!” No one in their right mind!  _ But you did, dumbass.  _ You hadn’t… exactly been in your right mind, though, had you? “I didn’t murder anyone. That’s not the point, though,” you paused before bringing your hands up and pinching his cheeks. Except there wasn’t much cheek when his grin stretched half-way up his face. You made do.

“The point is,” you shook off the sensation that you could only describe as ‘spooky’, “is that I think you’ll like the surprise. You see, it’s a surprise for the greatest demon of them all, the one that can smite all others without a second thought! Surely the big bad Radio Demon needs some  _ pampering,  _ don’t you think?” 

You knew  _ precisely  _ how to kiss his ass.

“That being said, I need you to possiblyleavethehouseforafewhours?”

Alastor sat up immediately. Concern furrowed his brows together and his smile started to twitch at the edges. “You want me to leave?” 

“No, not that way.” You said instantly, sitting up after him. “Like, get out of the house! Do something fun, whatever… fun is for you.” You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of what was fun for him.

“But… This is my home, you can’t kick me out of my own home. I  _ live _ here.” 

“It’s  _ our  _ home.” 

“Not right now it isn’t! Tell me what you have planned and I’ll think about training George to jump through a hoop of fire, but not until you tell me!” 

You huffed. “No, Al, it’ll ruin the surprise!” 

“So you want me outside of the house…. In this frigid hellscape?”

“Bingo.” You made finger-guns at him, clicking your tongue. He made a confused expression. Oh, right. He wasn’t modern. “Bring a coat.”

“...You know, you’re not very nice.” He crossed his arms over his chest and got off of you like he had been burned. 

“Kicking me out of my own home as if I had leprosy! I’ve met lepers you know! They were much kinder!” He went into his closet, talking  _ at _ you all the while. “They were always so understanding! And here you are, kicking me from the home I’ve built with my own two hands,” 

Several articles of clothing were flying out of said closet, only adding to the melodrama of the moment. 

He was being ridiculous. Sliding off of the bed during his tantrum, you stretched out, bending this way and that as if his dramatic flare was just a normal part of the day. It was. The articles of clothing had you frown. “I’m not cleaning that up!” You pointed at the ever-growing pile as he continued to rant on and on about you being cruel. Honestly, any larger and it could turn into its own monster. 

“I have raised two demon gators under this roof, and then you come along and think you own the place!” He came out in a black fur coat, softly glaring at you, a playful smile on his lips. You let out a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t even mad, he was just being Alastor,

“But then again, I suppose it  _ is _ half yours. Don’t burn anything while I’m gone.” 

You let a satisfied smile cross your lips. “You should wear more coats, they suit you.” You took a step closer before moving to stand just before him. “I promise, it’s a secret that you’ll like.” You reached for his hand, hoping to fill the spaces of your fingers with his own. “And you’re going to come back inside and be like ‘oh wow! You were right!’, because I am.” You narrowed your eyes playfully, puffing out your chest. 

“Trust me.”

Alastor’s gaze softened. Self-indulgent gift you say? His fingers wrapped around your hands; the hands that were so much more delicate and kind than his own. “I do trust you. With my soul and my heart. If you say I will enjoy it, then I choose to believe you.”

“Good, because I need to borrow Chester.” You blurted.

He released a strained type of sound, as if an insect had gotten stuck in his throat. “My shadow? Whatever for?” He hoped you were planning something sinister. For all that was hellish and mad, he wanted to come home to see his walls spattered in the blood of his enemies!

“For your surprise.” You answered, innocently batting your eyelashes up at him. He wasn’t going to get it out of you that easily.

He dropped your hands like a petulant child and snapped his fingers. Chester rose from the floor like a mass of black smoke, solidifying into void-like mass. “Fine. I’m leaving. Have fun with everyone but me!” He stomped off but not before slamming the door to his bedroom, and every other single door that was slammable. This was just absurd. Kicking him out of his own home. He was upset all over again, though when he found himself outside, he just sat on his back porch, leaning against one of the solid wooden poles that held up said flooring. He would brood in the solace of his swamp. This was fine. He was fine. 

He wasn’t going to pout while you were inside and he wasn’t.

Back inside the house, you looked up to the semi-solidified mass of darkness. “Alright. Jig’s up, you’re gonna help me, Chester. And if you tell Alastor what’s going on, I’ll make sure that you won’t play with Critter for a full  _ hour.”  _ You leaned a hand on your hip. “And if you help me, I’ll do something in return for you.” You held out your hand - were you going to make a deal with his shadow? 

You sure as hell were. “Deal?”

Chester tilted its head at you, its hands that so closely resembled its masters, were wringing each other nervously. The shadow had never done something like this before, and that made it nervous. But it did like the little baby gator. It wanted to continue to have a playmate. It got lonely sometimes after finishing its daily duties of macabre torture.

Its bright blue eyes, or rather the space its eyes would be, fell to the hand that was offered to him. It cautiously outstretched one of its and slipped it against your very warm skin. It nodded. It liked Critter. 

The semi-transparent hand, clouded in dark smoke, was particularly cold. It wasn’t cold in the sense of it being able to warm up, but instead something that felt past the point of return. You shook the hand, half-expecting your own hand to phase through it but finding that it was, in fact, solid. “Niceee…” You trailed before taking your hand away from the entity and placing it back to your side. 

“Okay, so what we’re going to do-” You were paused by a scratching sound at the door before the gentle  _ click  _ announced that something was entering. A snout, elongated, full of teeth, and then a red eye. Then another. And another. And then  _ another _ ... You get the point. 

You relaxed. “Hi Critter.”

Critter had seen the Big Big One slamming all sorts of doors. He wondered why the Big Big One was so angry, so he came to check on you to make sure his Small Big One was safe. Waddling over to you, he brought himself over and placed his head against your leg. You looked fine. Smelled fine. There was that curve thing on your face. 

You hadn’t had that when he first met you. 

You crouched down and placed your hand gently atop his head. “Ah, you’re getting so big.” You murmured affectionately, before continuing on: “You think you can do me a favor? Can you tell your mom and dad to keep Alastor out of the house? We’re gonna set up a special evening for him.” And to season the favor, “I’ll give you a T-bone if you do.”

FOOD. 

Critter started slapping his tail on the ground and he turned around happily. He had found an old little doorway that was just his size a while ago. His papa had told him it had used to be his, and he was gonna go tell his papa the plan ™️.

You clapped your hands together a single time as the alligator slithered out of the room. You turned to look at Chester then. “Let’s get started.”

It started off fine with a basic plan. You knew what you wanted to do, and you knew how to do it. There was a part of you that desired to show him how you felt on your first date, with how you had been starstruck and undeniably emotional about the entire endeavor. It had been gorgeous with the lighting, and what the pier had meant to you, the water… Now that you thought about it, it just made you realize how much time and effort it had taken him to put everything together. Sure, he could have very well just snapped things into place as far as you knew, but you wanted to make an  _ effort.  _

You see, there were very few things you weren’t willing to do to get a point across. Your point was only solidified in light of that morning where he had feared that he would have to leave you again- you wanted to show him that you were serious. That this wasn’t some sort of scheme or trick up your sleeve, that this was just as real as the afterlife the two of you had found yourselves in. 

You made your way towards the kitchen and began to rummage through the cabinets, and the fridge. There was no goal in mind for what you would make, not yet at least. “Hey Ches, grab me a cookbook from the library? Or whatever Alastor uses.” You looked back towards the shadow that had, in a sense, become your shadow, before closing the fridge. 

“And uh, can you circle what foods you think he would like?” Meat, probably, considering how much was in the fridge. You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. You weren’t going to feed him a demon, so that was out of the question. 

Chester pointed to a little box that was nestled in the corner of one of Alastor’s dark countertops. 

You followed the finger and offered a sheepish smile, before moving over to the small box. Opening it and bringing it closer, you began to thumb through the hand-written cards. Some were obviously written by Alastor, which you could tell by the doctor-like handwriting, but others were fainter and more dainty. A woman’s handwriting, you guessed. His mother? You sure didn’t write them. Jambalaya, Beignets, Crawfish dip, ah- You pulled one out and looked at it. 

“Bourbon Street Rib-eye steak.” As you looked at the recipe which included ⅔ bourbon whiskey, a cup of water, ½ cup soy sauce, three tablespoons Worcestershire sauce, two tablespoons lemon juice and, of course, the meat. You could do this!

Needless to say, you nearly burned the house down.

Alright, listen, you weren’t the best cook in the world, but if you hadn’t had Chester, you probably would have been worse off. It was a good help with the ingredients and otherwise until you left a cloth a little too close to the stove and it caught on fire. It was all going  _ great.  _

After you managed to put the fire out by stomping on the towelette with your shoe after throwing it on the floor, you returned to your place at the stove. It would be done within a few minutes, the recipe stated, and since Alastor liked green beans, you found some canned in a mason jar in his pantry and figured he could have them now too! 

You popped open the lid and tossed them into a pot, all to be manned at your designated spot at the stove. 

Following instructions brought the cooking process to a close without much trouble, save for the fire, but that was put out quickly. You were never so relieved to turn off the stove, in all honesty, and when the fire went out, you let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not meant to be a cook, Chester, I swear.” A complaint amongst many during that process to be had, surely. 

Throwing the towel to the side, you washed your hands and then grabbed two plates before setting them onto the table. Then, you placed a silver cloche over the two of them to keep the heat.

You could have stopped there, and just made dinner for the two of you.

You didn’t.

No, instead you looked over to Chester. “Do you know where the candles are? I uh, need a lot.”

Needless to say, the entirety of getting ready put a crick in your neck. You looked like a mess, probably. Each individual candle was placed where they wouldn’t fall, but still led to the exact same area. You couldn’t do the snappity thing, and honestly, you were hoping that eventually, you would. This shit was tedious. Speaking of tedious, you offered the lighter to Chester. 

“You wanna do the honors?” And light each one of them. 

Chester’s gaping maw widened as it merely held out its hand and snapped its fingers, lighting all the candles with one whoosh of air that passed them. 

“Nice job.” You grinned, before shrugging and putting the lighter behind you. A sense of nerves began to flutter in your stomach as you looked at your work. It wasn’t a spectacular thing, but you had managed. You looked out the window and your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. It was dark out. 

“Oh shit, shit shit.” It was DARK out! How long had he been out there!? Dropping all of your items with a clatter, you ran back towards the bedroom and skidded into the closet, nearly tripping over your own feet as you began to sort through an immense amount of clothes. Just like Alastor had done, you began to throw them behind you as you looked through them. 

“No,” there goes the purple dress, “nope,” a yellow one, “Nope,” blue, “nope,” grey. Your face twisted up at a bright pink one. “Hell no.”

And then finally, there was a red one that was semi-casual that was flowy towards the knees. It was pretty. You quickly peeled out of your clothes and got changed, before you, still shoeless, ran into the hall. As you slid a bit on the floor you realized you forgot the shoes. 

“Ugh! Fuck it!” You cried, before running straight towards the back door, panting and trying to catch your breath as you yanked it open. “Al! You out here?” You were internally panicking that he froze to death. Double death? Whatever. 

A groan fell from his lips as he rolled over. He was currently sprawled across his back porch like a decadent log of a demon. “You know, why not just leave me out here to rot!” He threw a hand over his eyes and brought his knee up. He looked quite the damsel. 

You crossed the porch— good god it was freezing, before crouching down beside him. “Come on, I wanna show you something.” You held out your hand in a hopeful manner, a small smile upon your lips. “I would never let you stay out here forever. I’m sorry.”

“Ugh.  _ Fine _ .” He slapped his hand into yours and let you help to pull him to his feet. “You know, George and Georgina were acting very strange today. It seems they received word from their child to keep me occupied. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that would you?” He knew better. 

A flurry of butterflies burst in your stomach as nervousness began to make itself known. Ah, good friend, you did not miss it. “Did it… work?” You looked up at him as you gently led him to the back door. Before he could respond, however, you motioned towards the path of candlelight that was  _ probably  _ a hazard to a cabin, but we weren’t going to talk about that. “Look.” 

Alastor blinked as he looked at the lines of candles. “You did this...” He settled an arm around your shoulders, bringing you both back into the comfortable warmth of his home. “For me?” There were candles everywhere. It was quite charming to see his home so romanticized, not to mention he could smell something in the air as well. 

You had made him a meal, he assumed. “Sweet darling, you didn’t have to go through all this.” 

You were currently toying with the ends of your dress as you pressed yourself against his side. “I know. I wanted to.” You murmured into the fabric of his coat. “Lemme take care of you for once.” 

You stepped forward and, holding his hand, you led him towards the kitchen where the meals were still perfectly settled where you had left them. You looked back at him with a hopeful grin- did he like it? 

Alastor stood by the table and placed his hand on it. His eyes were staring hard at what you had made. The last time anyone had made him anything like this, had been a long, long, long time ago. 

You had gone through so much effort, just to make him feel appreciated, and you had wanted it to be a secret so he would be so pleasantly surprised. His thumb stroked across his table thoughtfully. You nervously toyed with the end of your dress, and at that moment, there was nothing more important than making sure that he liked it. 

“You know that the last person to make me a meal had been my mother?” He smiled down at the steaks. 

You remained quiet. His mother? You felt…  _ guilty,  _ almost. He had always done things for you, and while you weren’t the best cook in the world, as long as you followed the instructions, it was often alright. Save for the fact that you almost burned his kitchen down, but hopefully, he would never have to find out about that. What a mess.

“Thank you,” he muttered. “This is quite wonderful.”

You immediately let out a sigh of relief and watched as he took a quick step to the other side to pull out his chair. 

“So we best not waste it!”


	63. Ready, Set... Not Quite Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content and themes that are not suitable for minors!

There was a storm of emotions raging in your body but you supposed the best term to describe your emotions would be a mixture of elation and nervousness. Anxiety was often the partner that got you into more trouble than it was worth, but as you watched Alastor dig into his meal, you couldn’t help the inklings of it start to peek through the cracks. It made your stomach fill with fluttering wings of moths and butterflies, leaving very little room for the actual food that you had prepared for the two of you. 

_ Was it good? _

_ Does he like it? _

_ What if he’s mad because you literally locked him out of his own damn house for hours on end?  _

_ Aw shit, man. _

Your palms were clammy, forcing you to bring them to your dress that was cool against your skin simply from the fabric. It was warm in this part of the house, as you were sure it would be any part where the candles were located. 

There were so many that you didn’t even need electricity if he were to ever consider using it (he wouldn’t). There were a few lamps here and there, but interestingly enough but fitting, entertainment that you found so  _ normal  _ such as the television, were not to be found. Even lights to navigate through the winding halls or to traverse the steps to the lower level of the house where the library resided were often dimly lit lamps or candles. Talk about a fire hazard.

It was a dim but comfortable setting, bathing you both in the flickering lights of the flames. 

You looked down at the plate as your stomach churned. The fork speared through the meat, just as the knife sliced through it to award you with your meal. The taste, as you brought it to your lips, was delightfully seasoned but holding a faint taste of liquor. It wasn’t enough to get intoxicated from, surely. You  _ had  _ followed the instructions after all. It was good though, and you were pleased with how it had turned out. Alastor, however, did not share your tongue so you weren’t entirely sure if he would enjoy what you had taken from his recipe collection. Honestly, your thoughts were just grasping at straws. 

Obviously, if he had it in his personal collection, he liked it.

Still though. You swallowed, before looking up to him. “Do you like it?” Your voice had lilted into a hopeful tone. 

“I found the recipe in your personal collection. It’s not the same thing that you made me on our first date, but it’s similar.” The first steak didn’t have nearly as much seasoning or even liquor in the sauce, but it was still good. You crossed your ankles beneath the table, before cutting up another piece and bringing it to your mouth. “I’m not the best cook, I know. I just… wanted to do something for you and this is what came to mind.” You laughed with a nervous flare.

Why were you nervous? 

Something unknown was stirring inside Alastor. It had his smile, often regarded as dangerous or off-putting, turning sweet. His lips closed around his teeth, and you watched in an instant as it turned into something vaguely endearing and coquettish all at once. It was a delicate type of flame, dancing in his stomach. You had gone through all this trouble, and still, you were nervous about whether or not he liked it. 

He wasn’t going to tell you immediately that he would have been touched even if you had made him swamp pies. No. You couldn’t know just how charming he found your effort to be, so rather than that, he cut himself another cube of meat and placed it behind his lips.

“You did exquisitely, little darling.”

Ah, his bourbon steak recipe. He wasn’t fond of cookbooks, or at least the conventional ones. You had sifted through his own collection of recipe cards for this particular one and even rooted through his cupboard. In all fairness, something about the situation felt painfully domestic. It was a type of moment he was positive he would never experience properly and yet, here he was seated across the table from you, watching as the lights of dozens of candles flickered over your skin while you shyly asked him if you had done all right. 

His eyes crinkled are the corners - a genuine smile.

“I couldn’t have done better myself!” Perhaps it could have been a lie, but in his heart, in that moment, it was nothing but truth. His eyes glanced to the kitchen to see it... an absolute wreck, but it only served to widen his grin. You truly had done your best and he was very proud of your efforts. 

It made him happy.

_ You _ made him happy.

Slowly, Alastor turned back to look at you. “What brought all this on? If I may ask.” He wanted a peek inside that almost infuriatingly innocent mind of yours, and while originally had wanted to corrupt it, to tarnish it, he now simply found himself in a state of eternal curiosity. How strange.

You let out a small breath of relief, finding yourself internally relieved. Your shoulders and back, which had been painfully stiff, relaxed. Your lips twisted into a smile as you brought another piece of your steak to your lips. Now that he had begun to eat and, by extent, offered you praise for your probably mediocre job, you could enjoy the meal. “Thank you.” You murmured before popping the steak into your mouth. Your grip on your dress which had been simply due to an onslaught of nerves, eased up. 

You had a moment to think back on his inquiry.

“I…” You weren’t sure what had brought it on. In all honesty, you had originally just wanted to appease the guilt of him always doing things for you, but now that you were here and actually enjoying your time, you knew otherwise. You moved a strand of hair behind your ear as you sat up a bit straighter. “Well, one of the reasons was that I just wanted to show my appreciation, y’know? You’re always doing so much for me and I feel… bad for not giving the same back.” And then you brought your left hand up and reached over the table in hopes to lay it upon his. 

Alastor smiled around his utensil. His head tilted to the side as he watched you ramble on, and while you would have found his gaze uncomfortable in the past, it now set you at ease. Your attitude was quite kind if he could say so himself. He thought it silly that you thought you offered him so little; your company was more than enough to settle the most chaotic parts of his soul. Yet for some strange reason, you thought grand gestures of affection would give him serenity. While the dinner and candles were lovely, all he really would ever need was you. 

Still, you continued on. “I also just wanted to spend time with you. We’re in the middle of a swamp, and you didn’t have lights other than the candles, so I did what I could with what I had. Chester was a great help! You should have seen him.” You chatted away as excitement began to pool in you, and then all at once, you were back to normal. “But I hope all of this is okay. I know you said it was, but I… haven’t been in charge of something like this before.”

AKA, you were nervous and had zero idea what you were doing other than taking what he had done for you and applying it to here. 

“In charge of?” He responded. “Have you not cooked before?” There were creases between his eyebrows. Perhaps that’s another thing he would teach you. He was of the firm belief that one should always know how to take care of themself. Cooking was one of the most valuable skills one could hone. Thinking back on it… You really hadn’t cooked anything. You fed on granola bars and prepackaged garbage when he didn’t feed you. 

Oh ho, oh no. No, no, no. This needed to be remedied. 

You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles for a moment before pulling back and returning to your meal. “All I’m saying is that if someone told me to cook something without instructions, I would burn the house down.” You wouldn’t mention that you had almost done just that even with instructions. It wasn’t that you were clumsy, you just didn’t know what you were doing half of the time. 

“In charge of this… date.” You looked down to your plate as you thought back on all of the other things he had done during the date that you had previously gone on with him. There was dinner, and then there was the dancing. 

Oh fuck, you forgot the dancing! 

“Do you have a radio in the house or… any place that you can play music out of?” You wouldn’t let him know what you were planning just yet, but you supposed that it wasn’t hard to figure out if he compared the two dates. 

And then you realized right when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Darling… Am I a joke to you?” Unbelievable. He rose his arms in a manner that would have been seen as ridiculous if you couldn’t feel the sudden wave of static flow over you. There he was, channeling all the radio waves through his body as if he was a beacon. It was how he was able to be  _ The Radio Demon _ . Beautiful jazz music was now filling the room, all spurred from him. He lowered his arms and settled his elbows onto the table, like a true heathen, placing his face in his interwoven hands as a school girl would. He fluttered his lashes at you with a Cheshire grin. 

“You mean like this?”

Your jaw dropped as you watched or, in this case, listened to the display. The music filtered throughout the room, bouncing off of the walls and echoing throughout the vicinity; the silence that had once been prominent and filled the gaps of your speech was eradicated. 

“Woah.” You stated a bit dumbly, “I mean, Woah. How did you do that? I know you’re The Radio Demon but I didn’t know that… you could actually do things that a radio could do…? Actually.” You paused, holding up a finger. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter!” You pushed the seat out with a  _ skrrt!  _ upon noticing that the two of you were practically done with your meal, before moving over to him, and basically grabbing his arms. 

“Dance with me.” You tugged at his sleeves. 

Alastor blinked heavily at you. “I didn’t realize we were on a time crunch.” He stood, taking you in his arms so he could sweep you along the room. He had one arm firmly wrapped about your waist while his other hand held yours delicately. “But just as surely, perhaps there is no time to waste, rushing towards eternity, we’ll be there together!” 

He twirled you in his arms, watching as some of the flames of the candles were snuffed out by the swishing in the skirt of your dress. The way that it spun around you as you were twirled had you let out a soft laugh. It was a freeing feeling, something that made you understand why he insisted on dancing at times where it was uncalled for or, just being eccentric in general. You didn’t often indulge in the dances unless he pulled you in without your consent, but you always managed to have a good time when you did. 

“We’re not on a time crunch,” you looked up to him as he pulled you to his chest. “We never are!” You laughed, “I guess I just got excited is all,” your eyes fell to his hands before returning the same coquettish glance he had offered you. It was all in good fun, really. “To have your hands on me.” 

“Have I told you that you look lovely this evening? I would say good enough for dessert, but then again,” He spun you back into his chest, holding your hands close to his heart.

“You’ll always be sweet to me.” He pecked you on your forehead, pulling away with a teasing grin. “So what else do you have on this strict itinerary, my love?” He had never pegged you for much of a planner, but then again, you were filled to the brim with surprises. Sometimes he hated it, but now that you had his curiosity piqued, he assumed it was alright. 

You stepped back, taking his own hands and attempting to spin him around. It was a bit awkward with the height difference, but here you were. 

He let out a chime of laughter as you spun him out. Oh, what fun dancing could be when you were with the right partner! He came back to you like a moth to a flame, wrapping his arms back around you warmly. 

“And I don’t think you have, good sir! I would say you look spiffy too, but you  _ always _ do.” 

“So eager! You know, when I find myself in such a crisis, I normally think about what I would wish to go perfectly with the moment!” He lowered his head and in doing so, his voice dropped into a murmur that had a chill run up your spine. It was always a wonder how such a simple thing as his voice could have such reactions.

“So darling, what do you find in your heart's desire for the moment?” He snapped the candles out but for a few, darkening the room to a dim red glow. He merely wanted to hold you close in this light. He had been outside for an awfully long time and it had been cold. Even though he was a naturally warm being, even he could be subject to the harsh weather conditions Hell offered. 

“ _ Welllll _ , uh, I didn’t… think that far ahead?” You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll think of something!” You were already ransacking your mind for possible activities. You could go to the library again, or he could show you that torture room. The smell was disgusting, but it was interesting, you wouldn’t lie. 

So many weird things and, oh, you were now being picked up. Nice. You guessed it had to do with him having a hard time bending down from the height difference, but you didn’t mind. You were suddenly pressed against his chest and your head instinctively found the space of his neck. You felt a pressure atop your head which was, without a doubt, something you had gotten used to. Sometimes he would lean his elbow on your head. Ridiculous.

Though this time it was his own chin. 

With one of his arms securely wrapped around your waist, you were repositioned into a bridal style as his other found its way underneath your thighs. It was easily done, and with how tightly he was pressing you to him, it was safe to assume that he did indeed want to be close to you, too. And if that wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, you weren’t sure what was. You felt the vibration in his throat before you heard the actual words:

“Tell me your secrets.” A whisper.

The warmth of affection and pure, unadulterated love. “I just want to be close to you.” You tilted your head up to further nuzzle into the crook beneath his chin and sternum. “I was thinking that we could go to the library or even your secret place, because I find it interesting and I want to know all parts of you, but honestly?” You moved your fingers to toy at the thinner strands of hair at the back of his head. 

“I could stay here forever.” You buried your face underneath his head finally, your lips brushing against his jugular with each word.

“You do realize,” he paused. “That I am perfectly capable of doing just that?” He could hold you for eons. He would grow around you as vines would around any structure, claim you as his own as he would cover and protect you completely. In some ways, he would prefer to keep you hidden from the world, so he alone could bask in all that was you, all the hidden wonder you held within. But that would be selfish of him, considering there were other people you cared for down here.

You adored Charlie and he didn’t think you were aptly suited for swamp life. 

But for now, enfolding you in his grasp would do perfectly. Having your body respond to his in kind, would do just fine in his book. 

“However, did you call my autopsy room ‘my secret place’?” Often times he himself called it his torture room, but in actuality, it was suited for an autopsy, you know, minus the horrific smell. Ah, he was rather fond of it but perhaps he could disinfect the place at the very least. But no! Then it would lose its charm!

It wasn’t every day you could craft such a scent. You pressed yourself tighter to him at the murmur of his words. Perhaps he was entirely capable of holding you for the rest of time, and in all honesty, you would let him. In this moment, you did not think of the other individuals in your existence. All that mattered right now was him, and a bit selfishly, you wanted to keep this side of him to you and you alone. If that meant by him never letting you down and holding you for the rest of eternity, then so be it. You hummed against his neck, closing your eyes for a moment and enjoying the presence of his closeness. 

Oh, the secret place. “Maybe.” You reopened your eyes and leaned back to gaze up at him, and in your gaze held only adoration. “And if I did?” You pushed yourself up so that you could rub your nose against his. “Your  _ secret room?”  _ You weren’t entirely sure where the teasing came from, but you were rolling with it. “Or is it our secret room?” You looked up at him through your lashes for a moment before pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

There was a comfortable would-be silence if he hadn’t been playing music.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Would you try and stop me if I had been, say… dragging a body behind me?” This was not your first date with him, so he could really start in on the pressing questions. 

“No.” Because at that point they would already be dead. … Double dead? You were surprised to find that you didn’t stiffen nor did you automatically recoil from him. Maybe you were just too into the moment, or maybe he had actually begun to stain your purity with his own corruption. “You’d probably need more jars, then. 

“You know, if I were to see you dragging a body through here, I cannot tell how delighted I would be.” His grip around you tightened and he hoisted you up so you would be higher than him, right side up. “Should you ever be curious about the darker aspects of my activities, do let me know.” He thought quietly to himself for a moment, getting lost as he looked at the coy sparkle in your eyes. 

“My goodness darling, did you know that a couple that murders together, stays together?” He couldn’t help but let some of the blacker parts of his humor slip out. He highly doubted you would ever do such a heinous thing, but even the thought was enough to make him chuckle. 

He could feel your softness in his arms, the formulation of your muscle beneath your skin, and the pooling of the fabric over his own arms. It was a moment of tenderness and closeness. Now the low light of the room lent a very mysterious glint to your gaze that had his own chasing after yours. He could understand why you required closeness. He did as well, and he could feel a bit of his self-control slipping as he let your body slide back down his front. He simply wanted to kiss you, properly and without fanfare.

And as he leaned in, you understood.

Your lips captured his, filling the spaces of his own with fervor, but a vulnerability that you were willing to share with him and him alone. Your heart skipped a beat at first, and you could feel your cheeks warm in comparison to what they had been before- and it was not due to the heat of the candles in the room, some of which had been put out. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, never having let him go even as your feet touched the coolness of the floor once more. There was an emotion in your kiss that could not be rivaled, your heart picking up in pace to a steady rhythm as you slowly unwound your arms from his neck, your left hand moving to his cheek and the right to the space between his neck and shoulder. 

Your lips could be the salve to his miserable being, for now, he truly felt like he had begun existing after he had met you. 

You found that, despite the desire, you didn’t need to take a breath. You could bruise his lips with your own for as long as you wanted with no consequence whatsoever. It didn’t stop you from panting though when you pulled away just enough to murmur: “I love you,” against his lips.

A deep reverberation of a ‘ _ mmm’  _ pulsed through his lungs, filling his body with pinpricks of sunlight. You could feel the subtle vibration against your own lips as his sought your own for a moment longer, before he finally pulled away. 

“I love you too, you precious creature.” He brought one of his hands up to stroke your cheek, his finger curling at the knuckles so his claws wouldn’t be close to your luscious skin. He knew you were a demon, but he supposed even  _ he _ could be fooled by your outward appearance. His hands slid back down the length of your sides to grab your hips at the widest part, and you found yourself watching as he blinked down at you slowly before willingly, backing you into his sitting-room; of which he had no guests to seat inside, for you were all the company he desired. 

There, he settled himself down onto his couch merely to pull you on top of him. You bared your neck to him as he placed you upon him, your thighs spread against his waist as you closed your eyes for a fleeting moment. You felt warm in all of the right places, and you never wanted this moment to end even if it were just a show of affection. With a raise of a hand, Alastor snapped a lone light on, as the candlelight failed to reach the vicinity the two of you occupied.

And then you felt the ghost of his lips upon your neck. 

“We should have a date night more often. What do you say, little darling?” He fell in tune with the blood that throbbed through your veins.

What do you say? You took a shuddering breath, bringing your hands up to grasp at his jacket. “Mhm _ .”  _ That’s what you said.

He chuckled, lowering his hands slowly over you just to splay them on the bare skin of your thighs. “Are you speechless? You know I find myself quite breathless by you on occasion as well.” He breathed the words onto your skin reverently, as if he truly wanted to seep into you and mark everything beneath. He trailed his nose over a tendon in your neck, tracing whatever indentations he could.

The desire to map you out and memorize you, immortalize you in his mind just as you were, was practically irresistible. Perfectly you, shaky hands, bright eyes, quivering lips; of it in his mind made you all the more stunning. You had retained so much of your humanity, and yet you would place yourself in harm’s way just by being with him. 

It made his heart clench and start to beat in some strange rhythm. Earlier on in your time shared together he would have thought himself sick, but now he knew better. He had realized through your own words that all of his efforts had been spent in useless ways, meaningless, angered. But now he knew what it all was. This buzzing joy that spread through him like warmed honey. You filled him with love, so much so he could feel it spilling over his lips as he tasted your skin. 

And you? Well, your heart was going batshit crazy. 

You felt like your skin was on fire, and it didn’t help that his words made a shock go into your body and start to feel a familiar restlessness. You didn’t speak, to further let him know that yes, you were speechless by him. You would move the stars for him, you would go through heaven and back for him, you would do anything. You were his, and he was yours, and you couldn’t bury your love for him. You never wanted to. You moved your head to cut off his kisses to your neck, before diving your own head under his neck to taste his own flesh. To press your lips oh so sweetly to his skin, to trail your kisses one by one. 

You were a bit feverish in your touches, trying to anchor yourself by touching him.

You moved your hands down and pulled his shirt up so that your hands could feel him. He was cold, but it showed just how warm you were. “Al,” you whined, “please, sweetheart, my love, darling,” you began to ramble off his pet names as you pressed a bit harder into his neck. Just as you were about to say it though, you felt choked up. It was only when you leaned back, a string of saliva attaching you to his neck, and instead pressed your lips to his own, did you finally have the ability.

“Make love to me.” You whispered. You weren’t below begging at this point. You wanted him.

Alastor’s hands flexed on your thighs. He relished in the touch of your lips, the sweet affections you were showering onto his neck. But as he heard those words fall from your mouth, it made him nervous. “I’ve never performed such a task before.” He wanted to, but it was something delicate to him, fragile. He didn’t want to break you. He let one of his hands wander upwards. He placed one finger, tracing thin lines over the seat of your panties, just to see how you would respond to the light touch. 

Your face which had already begun to heat up now burned. The blood that coursed through your veins began to grow audible as a sound of approval escaped your throat. It was a bit of an embarrassing sound, but it was a raw and untouched pleasure. To feel him tease your most intimate areas, to have his strong grip on you, hell, to have his  _ hands  _ on you, made you want to collapse into him. He had some unspoken power over you that you could not quite figure out during these times, where your self-control was practically non-existent and the high that he offered you, was unmatched. 

“Is that really what you want from me?” He had never had the privilege of being fully inside you. His fingers, his tongue, his lips, but never what was resting between his own thighs. His other hand was spread over your lower back, urging your body closer to his, just so he could press your face closer to his. His lips landed on the line of your jaw, pressing light kisses there, while his touch to your most sensitive of places was gently increased. He shortened his nails so as not to hurt you while his strokes over your sex became firmer and more targeted. 

He muttered hotly into your ear, “You want me inside you? My sweet little sharkling? Is that what you want?” 

He moved your underwear to the side, slipping his fingers through your folds, and curling his fingers inside you. “I already love you, so tell me what you really want.” He started to massage your insides, his thumb falling to circle that hardened pearl of nerve endings. He was holding you from the inside out and it sent a spike of pleasure spearing through him. 

“Yes,” you gasped out softly, against him. You wouldn’t lie and say that his first set of words sent you into a place of nervousness, too. You could act all high and mighty during this, but you knew less than him when it came to this. He had years stacked against you, and while he may not have had sex before, he still could have heard about it. He did, in fact, seem to know just where to touch you. 

You knew the basics, of course; stuff that everyone should know, despite your amnesia. You were naturally learning as time went on how to do certain things. When you felt him circle you delicately, but with just enough pressure, only to push his fingers through you and massage you, you let out something that was akin to a whimper, but not quite. It was made out of pleasure, and as he appeased the heat between your thighs, you began to gently rock your hips against him. 

You leaned your head against his cheek as he murmured into your ear, and you closed your eyes to focus on the sensation that was sending sparks up your spine. There was a boldness to your next words that went against what experience you actually had- made you seem like you had a lot more than you did. But with his hand working wonders against you, you couldn’t help but fantasize what other parts could do. “I… I want you to be inside of me.” 

How many ways could you say it? You were practically melting over here! “I’m...” You couldn’t piece together coherent thoughts as you focused on the feeling of his fingers, the way they rubbed that  _ spot  _ inside of you that felt so damn  _ good.  _ This man was going to be the end of you, you were certain. You were trying to catch your breath as you tried to stay still as he massaged you open. 

Your heart was pounding in your ribcage, and you were certain that if he spoke he would be drowned out by the roaring blood that was rushing through your body. 

You pulled your head back from against his cheek, only to press your lips against his. You wanted to bruise them, make them swollen with your love, you wanted to claim him— his  _ body,  _ his soul, everything at once as your own. You wanted him to do the same. “I want you.” The words were spoken against soft kisses- the feverishly placed ones a thing of the past as you tried, desperately, to control yourself. You had all the time in the world, literally. 

Your kisses were diligent, gentle, and while the overwhelming desire still controlled the majority of your actions, you wanted this to be special. 

You didn’t want to rush, despite what your earlier actions may have pointed to. It was the excitement and nervousness that made you want to spontaneously combust into a thousand pieces. Hell, you barely noticed that he went silent, you were too lost in your own pleasure.

You had a hard time forming coherent thoughts and phrases as you chased after that slice of heaven that his fingers alone were offering you, and your eyes fluttered closed as you paused in your movements of undressing him. His chest was now half-way exposed, the fabric of his shirt peeling off to the sides, crumbled at your feverish touches. There was a coil in your gut that was being stretched further and further apart, a warmth running up your thighs as you completely ceased your efforts and instead bowed over him, your elbows resting on his chest as you focused on the sensations he was gracing you with. 

“Mn, you feel so good.” Your voice was also shaky- you knew the why’s to why you were so nervous, knowing just how this was going to go, but that didn’t mean you liked it. It was a vulnerability you were willing to offer him, though. 

As your high reached closer and closer, you ended up just… pressing your forehead to his chest.

You were curled onto his chest so sweetly. He could understand that overwhelming sense of heat flowing through you. He settled a hand on your back, smoothing his fingers up and down your spine. He wanted to trace his name onto your vertebrae, but he settled for placing his lips to your forehead and muttering sweet loving words to you. 

“That’s it, little sharkling, I’ve got you.” He kept pace with his fingers and spread them apart inside you, stretching you further. “Are you going to cum for me?” 

He placed an open-mouthed kiss to your temple, breathing in the scent of your hair. “I want to feel your body clench around my fingers.” His voice was deepening with his own lust, turning it graveled, roughing the normal pitched timbre of his words. “Let me feel you come undone, darling.” His mouth traveled to your ear, his lips wrapping around the lobe, teeth teasing at the sensitive part of you. 

“I’m going to make your body crave mine in the most carnal of ways.” He lowered his head even more, to mouth drunkenly at the column of your throat, his teeth teasing thin darkened lines onto your skin. “ _ Cum for me.” _

And in that command, it was the harshest you had ever heard him.

Half of his words were lost to you through the fog of your mind, and if you had opened your eyes, they probably would have been unable to focus on anything; glazed over in a sheen of pleasure and lust. The words that did get processed, however, were laced with a drug that you were addicted to, an euphoric, ambrosia sensation of his breath against you. 

Hot puffs of his breath against your flesh as your fingers clenched around the remaining fabric around his body until it didn’t. When his teeth traced your jugular, the column of your throat that he could have  _ very easily  _ ripped out if he so desired to, heated chills ran up your spine until it became all too much. 

Your hands splayed out, grasping the fabric, before a sickening tearing sound erupted throughout the vicinity. 

While you were practically ripping his shirt open, you were lost in an abyss of pleasure. The sensations caused your walls to clench around his fingers, just like he had wanted, keeping him trapped inside of you as a wave of euphoria pulled you in different directions, climaxing upon the highest wave of pleasure, before you were gently rolled to the shore of reality. Your thighs had quaked against his abdomen, your hips slowing in their assault of reaching that nirvana. Your lips were parted as you attempted to regain your groundings, your breath, as you laid upon him. 

The first thing you noticed once you came off of your high, was the feeling of his skin laying upon yours, the texture of countless scars causing you to weakly look down. Your mind was reeling still, so it took you a moment to accurately process that you had ripped his shirt. 

He pulled his hand from you slowly, nudging his nose into your cheek. 

“I ripped your shirt.” You panted, blurting out the obvious.

“I’m aware. I’ve many others. You’ve been in my closet.” He rolled his shoulders, letting the remaining shreds of fabric fall from his body. 

Your hands moved up his torso after a moment, feeling the stretch of his lithe musculature with each breath he took; you were pleasantly surprised to find that, his too, were ragged and quick. He was just as breathless as you were, and you hadn’t even done anything to him. 

But with what limited self-control you still had, as your mind fought to come back to the present, you wanted to make sure. You  _ had _ to make sure. “Is this something… that you want?” Your eyes fluttered closed as you nudged your face closer to his, your lips delicately pressing to his own in a sweet kiss. Despite your selfishness, despite your body naturally pulling you to further pleasure as it came down from its high, your rational side (rare as it was) knew that he had originally told you he wasn’t ready. You remembered. You needed to make sure.

And if he wasn’t ready, you would be okay with that. 

Because when you were dead, you didn’t need a time crunch. But also because you loved him, yeah. That too. You would do absolutely anything for him. 

He took a calming breath. It would be so,  _ so  _ easy to push this moment just one step further.

But he had been pushing you from the very beginning into things you hadn’t chosen. And while yes, his body was willing, his mind knew better. You were still soaking in your own personal high, that didn’t make for the most coherent trail of thought. He settled his clean hand on your cheek. “I still think I’m not quite ready for that step, darling.” He hoped you would understand. He himself had never been a creature of a sexual nature. The act never intrigued him. He was still very much coming to terms with the fact that he held such interests in you. And while he would like to explore your body in such an intimate way, he was also still getting used to sharing his affections. 

It was all a very complicated process for him. While it would have been easy for him right now to take that step, he knew he needed to wait. He was satisfied enough from your own pleasure. 

You hummed softly, not in disappointment, no, you were well aware of his lack of appeal for sexual arousal and he was still learning how to please you. Slowly but surely, he was. But you were content with just  _ being  _ with him, near him,  _ as  _ his. You could hear the hesitance in his voice long before his words registered in your mind, and that was all it took for you to come to an understanding that what your body naturally wanted to gravitate towards, would not happen. 

“That’s okay.” You whispered, before pressing your lips once more against his lips. You were a sucker for his kisses, that was for  _ damn  _ sure. “I’ll wait for you.”

While you were leaning against him still, you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. So soft. What conditioner did he use? You recalled him using it on you a few days ago, but playing with your own hair right now was out of the question. With his shirt now ripped, unless he snapped one on himself again, his body was still practically free to touch. You had never really got to feel him in that aspect, and the moment that the idea fluttered into your mind, you couldn’t hide the smile from your lips. 

“What would you say to a massage?” That way you would still be able to touch him in an intimate manner but not  _ as  _ intimate.

“I would say… I’ve never had one. And I am not the type of man to knock things before I have tried them! Though I will say that I am still starving as  _ someone _ locked me out of my home for hours on end…” His gaze turned playful, his touch remaining kind as he held your body. 

He realized he was already mostly in a state of undress. And so, in a typical Alastor fashion, he flopped onto his front on the lounge seating you both were on. He snapped his fingers, summoning the rest of his meal to him; and just like that. There it was. 

“You did say this gift was going to be self-indulgent, did you not?” He eyed you behind him, still reeling from the fast change of position. He rolled his scarred shoulders heavily. “Touch me!” The music turned from the sweet slow jazz into something he was more used to hearing in his youth. It was lively, but still quiet enough to be white noise. 

He was ridiculous.

That was the only thing on your mind as you tumbled around like a rag doll as he repositioned himself so that you were sitting on his lower back. But before you could begin to touch him like he so desired, something ruffled at your dress at the base of your own lower back, swishing it from side to side. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment as you looked over your shoulder and, lo and behold…

“Oh my Go- Lucifer.” 

There it was in all of its glorious beauty, a fluffy red and black tail that was  _ wagging.  _ You didn’t know how to react at first, your eyes turning into saucers. It was so close. His tail was  _ touching  _ you. His tail! You had one-hundred and ten percent forgotten that he had a tail! It felt so long since you had last seen it, and if you were remembering correctly, it was only two times. Right before Kyle had come to the hotel where the two of you were bantering, and one time when you had gone to his room and yelled at him. 

Ah, fun times. 

So you twisted awkwardly, reached back, and grabbed it. You could still feel it twitching in your hand from the desire to wag it and you couldn’t hold back the laugh if you had very well tried. It was ridiculously cute - fitting. For a moment you had forgotten about your task at hand, solely focused on feeling and touching the tail that had captured your attention.

Alastor rose a brow as he focused on cutting up his steak. He could feel your focus on his tail. It was one of the main reasons he pretended it wasn’t there. His reputation as the great Radio Demon would be so tarnished. If he ever ran into the damn deer hunter and his dogs, he was going to eat them whole. It was all their fault he had that foolish little thing. 

It was always betraying him. Wagging. Mostly in your presence, but still; it was unbefitting for a demon such as himself to have something considered so cute attached to him permanently. While he quietly ate, letting you just do as you wanted while you were atop him, he felt his thoughts drifting into a soft place. 

You had always been fond of his tail after all. Even from the moment you had first spotted it. He knew. He was a bit surprised you had forgotten it.

He never could. The treacherous little appendage.

“You know, I’ve been told in the past that my tail is cute. By you, in fact. Where does your mind go? So easily you forget the insults you’ve tossed at me in the past.” He tsked, forcefully shaking his tail in your grasp, attempting to dislodge your grip. Self-indulgent gift… HAH! 

You were too preoccupied with his  _ tail _ . 

“Adorable.” You blurted immediately. 

“It’s all the same to me.” A scoff. Well now, he was almost sounding grumpy. 

“Why don’t you like it?” You let your grip fall from it as you twisted back around. He obviously wasn’t that fond of it.

“Have you ever encountered a moose?”

You blinked as you began to run the heels of your palms along each side of his spine. Even in this position, you could see his vertebrae. Often times it was more noticeable when he slouched and bent down to get something, not that you did see him topless a lot of the time. You supposed it had to do with his full form, with how they became more exposed and haunting in appearance. Honestly in that form, it almost looked painful.

“A  _ moose? _ ” 

Your voice held an inquisitive tone before you shook your head. “If I ever did, I don’t remember. So I guess not.” You weren’t the best at massages, but you tried your best by pressing your thumbs into his spine while running your hands up his body.

“Moose are massive. They are fierce creatures and have every right to be, as terrifying as they are.  _ However _ .” He could feel the bitterness in his tone rising. “ _ Deer _ have a very gentle stigma attached to them. It is, for this reason, my tail is a bit of a sore subject, however adorable it may be. It’s quite foolish in all reality.” A sigh. 

“I was fond of deer hunting in my life, I still adore the antlers, and am still quite fond of taxidermy, but that tail!”

He let out a dramatic groan. “It’s the bane of my existence. It’s the reason for my long suit jackets. You are among the very few who are even aware of its existence.” He finished with a murmur. “I don’t want to be cute, I want to be feared.” Perhaps he was being petulant, but everyone had sore spots about their own anatomy, he was allowed to be sour about his tail. 

“Should have been a moose hunter.” He bit into a piece of steak like an animal. He was a predator! An apex predator! The top of the food chain! He supposed lions had tails too, but nonetheless! 

“ _ Adorable _ .” He scoffed.

“Yes,” you leaned forward to rest your chin on his shoulder for a moment, “adorable.” 

You nosed against the back of his head. “But that doesn’t make you any less fearsome. I think that you’re quite scary.” You leaned back to only press a kiss to the base of his neck, just upon where vertebrae lay beneath flesh and muscle. “The big bad Radio Demon. You are feared throughout the Nine Circles, my love, don’t forget that. Even with your cute tail. Tail or no tail, that doesn’t change who you are. Who you’ve made yourself to be.” 

With one more peck, you lifted yourself up and ran your hands back down his back slowly, pressing in here and there, taking extra care towards his scars. They never ceased to amaze you. And then your attention fell to the candles that were flickering, liquid wax pooling down it. Hm. “Hm.” Hm, indeed. “Does the Radio Demon enjoy pain?”

“That all depends, does my love intend to do something  _ stupid? _ ” He could feel where your eyes were. All of the candles. It wasn’t that difficult to figure out. 

“Depends. I heard it feels good?” Question mark? 

“I would rather not figure that out amongst the many flames that are still flickering. This place has already been burned down once, and oh my, it was such a shame! Some of my favorite photographs got singed. All during an extermination! Angels are winged fools! Shooting divine fire wherever they think is funniest! Absolutely cruel.” 

You were already up and off him, stalking over to the candles while he chatted away. You could be careful. As you reached them, you took special care in blowing a few of them out that surrounded the one that you were taking, just in case. Wrapping your fingers around the candelabra, you brought over the still lit singular candle and stood before him. “I won’t burn the house down.”

You already almost did in the kitchen but we weren’t going to talk about that.

“If you really don’t want me to, I won’t. Just thought it would be,” a dramatic sigh, “cool to  _ experiment.”  _

He rose a brow as he looked at you. “I  _ really _ don’t want you to. I would prefer such experimentation to be held off for future times. I’m still getting used to having you touch me. I’m not sure how my skin would react to hot candle wax.” He blinked easily and let out a sigh, turning his head from you and folding his arms under his cheek. 

“Experiments can be premature, my darling.” 

You looked over at the flickering candle and then back to him as he spoke, and with a soft sigh and a nod of understanding, you moved back to place it with the others once again. “Right. Sorry, I just wanted to find something that would make you feel good. I don’t know your…” 

Kinks? 

No. Wrong word. Except? Maybe?

“Preferences.” With a  _ clink _ , you rested the candle on the top of the ledge before turning around and walking back over to him. “Tell me what you would like me to do, please. I want you to enjoy tonight.” You were doing it all for him, after all. You pressed your hand back onto his shoulder blades as you hoisted yourself on top of him once more. There, you sat directly where you had been prior. 

“Just touch me and tell me nice things.” He mumbled, shifting to press himself closer to your hands. Perhaps he was feeling a bit sensitive tonight. Outside, inside, dinner, almost-sex, dinner, massage. So much had happened. He just wanted to relax and have a nice evening with the person he loved. 

“I have never in my time existing, been so sensitive. What have you done to me, little sharkling?” There was a touch of laughter in his voice, but still. He truly was different with you. He was learning all types of things that he had assumed had been long forgotten, and now he had to relearn them all over. 

You could do that. Moving your hands to the base of his head, you pressed your thumbs down to where you could feel the small indentations of bone there, before easing the pressure. You continued to do this all the way down his back as you thought quietly on what to say. You often spoke the first thing on your mind, but now you actually had to  _ think.  _ It was weird. “Sensitive how?” You inquired gently. Was he sensitive to how you were touching him? Or was it more of an emotional thing? “If I’m touching you too hard just tell me, but if you’re talking about it being emotional,” you paused. 

“Well, I could stroke your ego.” 

“Your hands are fine,” he said softly. “I believe it’s just my humanity coming back to me, you know morals, values, what have you, nasty little things. But they only arise when you are around.” He mused. 

It was nice to talk to him like this, and you found yourself starved from  _ just  _ talking to him. You didn’t remember when you last had a peaceful conversation with him, where the two of you could relax and enjoy the things around you. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you had wanted to do this, because the last time you were able to let your guard down was during the date. Now of course, while you were in his home you could do that. 

“Why do you think that is?” You were curious, but at peace with just asking him questions to further the conversation. Who knew, maybe you could learn something new about him. 

Nevertheless, you continued the ministrations with your hands.

“I have been tainted.”

“How?”

“You’re too  _ nice _ .”

“Uh, am not.”

“Well, no not initially, but neither was I. I’ve no idea, and I don’t really want to dwell on why I suddenly have morals again. With the business I conduct? They had better not turn me into some hellion version of a saint. I can’t show my face at the annual embroidery competition if I do! Can you imagine! The embarrassment!” He groaned out. He wouldn’t be able to show up at the local quilting bee either. Those old demons were merciless! 

“This is going to put a damper on my social life.” He narrowed his eyes playfully, though you couldn’t see it. 

“How could you, darling! Instill me with right and wrong?”

He went to an annual embroidery competition. You were going to die. Again. And he had the audacity to tell you not to call him cute? You wanted to scoff, laugh, and everything in between. “I dunno. Maybe I’m just better than you. _ ” _ Your voice held a lilt of amusement to it. 

“Maybe.” His voice was growing softer as you both continued to chat, and as your hands continued to gently work out the stress he harbored in his muscles. Why did he suddenly feel so sleepy? “Can we sleep here tonight?” he mumbled. Your hands were so warm. This felt nice. 

You softly smiled down at him before you paused in your movements to grab the throw blanket from atop the headrest. “Yes, but you have to scooch over.” You weren’t going to sleep on his back.

“No.” He whined. “Just lay down on me. It’s nice, darling, cover me with your body.”

“But-“ Ugh. You couldn’t say no when he did  _ that. _

“Wait.” He mumbled, and rolled over, opening his arms with a dreamy smile. There. “Come here.”

Your heart fluttered as you gently lowered yourself into him, and like some sort of spell that had been pulled over you, you found yourself exhausted as well. It was late, and you were tired from everything that had happened earlier. Nuzzling your head into his neck, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to drift.

“I love you,” once again, you murmured against him. 

“And I love you.” He felt more than saw his shadow separate from him, rushing through the house to put out the rest of the candles. Darkness swept over you both and as Alastor finally drifted to sleep, the music that had filled the room slowly faded into a soft steady static.

A Radio Demon’s lullaby. 


	64. Responsibility? Never Heard of Her!

Slumber had come easily to you that night, perhaps a bit more so than you would have originally considering the fact that you had been exhausted. Your energy stores had been sapped after the activity the two of you had shared, which you supposed was the reasoning behind such a thing, but also because of the fact that you had worked around the clock. Generally, when you were drifting off, you were plagued by thoughts. A carousel of ideas and scenarios that had either happened during the day or were too outlandish to  _ ever  _ occur; but that hadn’t happened. 

It was one of the reasons why you despised the thought of going back to the hotel. Had you forgotten about your responsibilities? Not completely; you simply put the realization of the fact that yes, you would eventually have to return in the back of your mind-storage, where it unceremoniously collected dust. You were a bit selfish when it came to self-indulgences, you wouldn’t lie. So when you were approached with a proposal of tossing all of  _ this  _ away and being faced with the less than appealing world of Hell, well, to say you were more than happy to stay just where you were.

But as with each rest came a new morning, where the first thing you would notice when you stirred was the faint red light that filtered in through the window; albeit, the blinds and shades did cast the majority of the room in a darker shade of said light, thankfully. In your mind, fogged-up by the remains of sleep, you briefly wondered how light even existed in such a grand spectrum as it did. There was no sun, no physical place of origin - it just  _ existed.  _ And as the corners of your mouth twitched in a frown, you supposed it was moments like these where you wished that it didn’t. 

In fact, you weren’t even close to the point of wanting to get up, because the moment that you buried your face not into a pillow but into a firmer, warmer alternative, you murmured some unintelligible words that you couldn’t understand. The majority of it being whispered out through a half-asleep sigh, and something that you didn’t even bother to translate. Thankfully the revelation of all of the events coming back to you had woken you up enough to press yourself closer to the welcome warmth, your legs comfortably wrapped around his waist as you gingerly brought your hand to gently trace across his side.

His physique never failed to fascinate and poke at your curiosity; so lean and thin but having the strength to overpower practically anyone. He definitely didn’t  _ look _ as strong as he actually was, but you supposed that was what made him unique, and you liked that about him. 

Despite the two of you still being primarily covered by a throw blanket, you managed to navigate your hand to the curve of his side. You just wanted to feel him, to trace your name into his skin, to feel the way his muscles twitched or how the chills rose just like yours did when he did the same thing to you. It made a tired smile blossom to your lips, your fingertips following the curvature of his body down to where his waist was before moving back to travel up his body. You wanted to memorize every single detail about him.

How many times could you wake up like this, the same old thing, and not get bored? As many dawns as there were in eternity. 

Your touches were feather-light, the softest of sensations that could have even been considered ticklish - but that wasn’t your goal. For the first time, actually, you didn’t  _ have  _ a goal. 

Your existence had always been figuring out a way to do something. In the beginning, it had been to get him to, for lack of better terms, piss off. 

Then it had been trying to figure out who you had been and how you had died, and then the goal transitioned to figuring yourself out while also being with the  _ Radio Demon _ , learn how to fix your fuck ups, how to grow from your paranoid self to someone less hyper-focused on defending herself from something that was long in the past, how to learn to accept his flaws and psychopathic tendencies, and finally how to truly love him the way he deserved to be loved.

The latter grew easier and easier with every moment you spent with him. He was your weakness, the most important attachment you had to this world, and someone that you continued to fall deeper in love with. It was a fragility that gave you strength when you had none, a fondness, and an intimate relationship that went further than physicality; it was a weakness that you would never try to outgrow.

There were a thousand different descriptions you could apply to try to describe _love_, and certainly a thousand more goals you could probably think of for your future self, but for right now, you were content with just pressing yourself close to him, allowing your mind to slowly awaken, and perhaps even slowly, lure him out of his own slumber.

And you knew you succeeded when you saw those absurd, if not a bit comical, ears twitch.

Although, they had only done so at your minuscule touches and lingering passes that spread over his skin. Soft warmth flowed freely over his side, as did your hand. His brows furrowed before relaxing, a long exaggerated sigh exhaled from his nostrils as he pressed himself infinitely tighter to your hands. He had never been a being that was truly able to relish in the kindness of touch or its wonders. 

His entire existence he had held tightly onto the reins of control, which is finer terms, ultimately meant he was not one to accept the touch from others unless reciprocal to it. In fact, even while he had been living he had never found solace in foreign touch; such things were all rather purposeless to him. Due to his upbringing, and a thousand other reasons including the most painfully idiotic racism in regards to the color of his skin, the only touch he received from strangers was far from what he would deem acceptable. 

In fact, he could faintly remember the force of steel-toed boots being driven into his ribs, simply for being who he was - it was a cruel world, it would always be such, but with you, he was relieved to find only the tips of your fingers. 

The way they smoothed over his skin felt healing rather than punishing. The only person he had ever allowed to touch him had been his mother, and even so his relationship with her wasn’t as affectionate. All of this was rather strange and new to him, and yet he was quickly becoming used to all of the touches you gifted him, the kisses and surprise hugs. With each of your loving touches, he felt a part of his battered past and isolated life ebb away, only to be replaced with the shape of your body against his. 

If that wasn’t healing, he wasn’t sure what was.

“More.” He mumbled sleepily, turning his head to face you while still rolling it into the pillow under his head.

Your touch slowed for a moment, a second of hesitance as he moved to further push himself closer to your hand. 

Confusion swept up into the expanse of your mind, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before his voice came through his sleep-ridden demeanor. Your hand slowly lowered to completely lay upon his side, and as you trailed it up, you began to feel the indentations of his ribs, the rise of scars that were either new or old - there were simply too many to really figure out which was which, or to ask the story behind each one of them. They had been his sins,  _ were  _ his sins. Perhaps later on you would ask, but for right now you were too comfortable and idle to do much else other than brush your fingers across his skin.

Something guttural escaped Alastor’s throat. “This feels nice, darling.” Truly, it was something he was happy to grow accustomed to. 

You moved your head to untuck it from beneath his chin; the friction causing your hair to stick up in places and obtain a ‘bed-head’ type of style - you weren’t one for style in the morning, that was for  _ damn  _ sure. Unlike Alastor, you didn’t have a closet that had every single thing you could possibly want to wear, for whatever occasion, during whatever weather. In all honesty, you were a creature of comfort, only really dressing up if something excited you, it was required, or, well, you supposed you  _ did  _ have some days that you wanted to see what would look best on you. You just… never knew what to wear. 

You were particularly fond of cuddling with him, but as you pressed your head up closer to his face before your body followed suit, leaning into him just as he did you, before gently pushing him from where your hand rested in an attempt to get him to lay on his back. In your rest, the two of you had managed to curl into a spooning type of position. 

That, or you would just end up awkwardly clambering over him. 

“More?” You murmured sleepily, stretching up to bring yourself level with his own head; though, by doing that, you were forced to unhook your leg from around his waist. Your eyelids lowered as you brushed your nose against the side of his own, hovering your lips just above his, each word that escaped you causing them to ghost against his own. “You want me to touch you again?”

“Yes. After I finish what you started last night!” 

He may have been able to control his strength, but  _ definitely  _ not his volume. You winced. He was so loud, so sudden.

So… Alastor. 

His voice was tinged with laughter as he, faster than you could even begin to comprehend, rolled and ducked off of the couch you both had slept on last night, left you in a heap of blankets, and strode into the kitchen with his normal flare. You huffed and rested your cheek against the armrest - the couch was perfectly positioned for you to be able to watch his every move, so you could afford to be lazy if you wanted to. 

“You have a habit of leaving such things undone.” He tsked playfully as he grabbed your cold plate from the dining table. He brought it back over to where you were and started eating it cold in a very sleepy, tired, and almost lazy manner. For all the energy he was able to muster up most mornings, he still felt rather sleepy. 

You stared up at him with a confused expression. But… it was cold. “I could heat it back up for you.” And then as you lifted yourself up into a seated position, smoothing out the dress that still clung to you, you looked behind you for a moment. “Except, you don't have a microwave.” A whisper to yourself more than to him. “Do you…  _ like  _ it cold?” You looked back to him, scrunching your face up in confusion. 

Cold meat sounded disgusting.

Alastor’s pupils dilated before they constricted, his gaze snapping over to you from the rim of the fork. “Microwaves were invented by Lucifer, I’ll have you know! That candy in the pocket story is a myth.” Alastor waved his fork around wildly as if the story in question would manifest itself before you both, playing on some old film reel.

In his world, that could very well be a reality for him. “And no, this is quite alright.” It was almost nostalgic for him to take his meals in such a way. Oftentimes when he was younger, his meals would grow cold after he had finally finished all of his duties or projects for the day. 

Ah, good times.

You stared at him for a moment. What a weirdo. Who liked their meals cold? But this was also  _ Alastor _ , so you supposed that explained a lot already. 

“What’s the candy in the pocket story?” You probably should have known it, and you probably did when you had been alive considering how modern life had been, but now you were left with hopelessly grasping at things you had long forgotten. 

There was a gasp and then a  _ clink  _ as the fork hit a tooth. Taking the fork out of his mouth, he placed it on the plate. “You remember microwaves but not their origin? Oh, darling!”

Uh, no smart guy. “Charlie has one.” You explained softly.

“Oh. Well anyway, the story goes that a man in the armed forces or some branch was by one of their… Oh, what’s it called.” He rubbed his chin with his free clawed hand before lifting a finger up as if a lightbulb had gone off atop his head. 

“A radar! Yes, yes. He had a chocolate bar in his pocket and it melted, and rather than assuming it was his own body heat that melted it, he figured it was the radar or some other wacky nonsense.” He hooted in laughter, “Can you guess who was truly behind those schemes, my dear?”

“... Lucif-“

“It was  _ Lucifer! _ ”

You decided to just let him talk.

“Of course, having a riff at humanity again, oh ho, but then the man invented M&M’s or a microwave…. Perhaps both!” He shook his head. “Either way, it was the Devil’s invention and as I’m sure you remember, Lucifer has quite the knack for trouble. I refuse to have such a monstrous box in my home.” He prattled on and realized halfway through even he wasn’t sure about the tale he was telling you. But, he was positive that at least  _ some _ parts were true. Lucifer fiddled with the American military often. It was how he got his kicks, some would say.

Privacy was important to him.

“Lucifer is…” Definitely something. 

You shuddered are the memory of him unhinging his jaw to eat an apple, and another with that stupid fucking  _ worm.  _ “So anyway, that brings up another question I had.” A question that you didn’t have until right now, actually. “You’ve been here longer than I have and the people don’t really seem all that eager to talk politics. I heard that Lucifer isn’t actually  _ Satan. _ That Satan is a different demon.”

“Yes.” He answered pointedly. “So what’s your question?” 

“So, why do people assume that Lucifer is the head-honcho then? Where is Satan? Why doesn’t anyone ever  _ talk  _ about him? I mean, he seems more like a myth to me. Not even the 666 News reports about him, and you would think they would!” You rambled. They reported absolutely everything!

Alastor pulled back. Goodness, you were… Young. You just didn’t get it. “Darling,” He pushed the plate to the side, the entire piece of china spotless. He didn’t want to distract from what he was going to share with you. “Satan and Lucifer are beings that hold far more power than you realize.” He tapped his finger on the armrest for a moment before continuing. 

He was trying to think about how to properly put this. 

“Lucifer is a fallen angel. Of this, I’m sure you’re well aware. He was created in the very beginning and the first cast down. So imagine, you are the only divine being cast from the light and into the infinite darkness, and there is already a being waiting for you. Satan has been here from the  _ absolute _ beginning. He was born of darkness and only comes to light on occasion when the ancient council, Beezelbub, and all other ancient horrors of the dark, are needed.” He paused to let you soak in the information. 

You knew he was being serious by how slow he was talking. Generally, Alastor spoke at neck-snapping speed and if you weren’t entirely focused on him, you could miss something rather important. But now, he was speaking like a  _ normal  _ person; and as odd as it sounded, you knew this was some real shit.

“Lucifer, born of divine light and is used to being referred to as the Morning Star, is also used to draw more attention. He doesn’t mind the fanfare. Satan, however, is pure unadulterated darkness. Evil incarnate.  _ Malice _ .” He leaned in. “So, you tell me, are you going to be the one who starts digging around in Satan’s past to report on it, or are you just going to accept that some people are too foolish to tell the difference between the two as is often the case?” His eyes hardened.

He had only encountered the demon a handful of times. All of which had been during exterminations and all of which he had observed as clouds of pure darkness swallowed divine light. It had been like witnessing a hurricane, or some other type of natural phenomena.

It was a lot to take in, in all honesty. You had always assumed, just like the fools he claimed, that Lucifer and Satan were one and the same. Nevertheless, you had learned otherwise in your time down here. And as his description reminded you that you  _ were  _ in fact in an  _ evil place  _ and that Satan was the manifestation of darkness, you were met with a pang of fear. 

“Some things are better left alone.” You learned that the hard way. Oh, you had goosebumps. You raised your hand to rub your arm in hopes to ease them away. “He sounds… terrifying. Have you ever met him?”

He nodded in affirmation. “Only a few chance sightings really. All during the exterminations. In my younger years here I would go out and try to collect certain artifacts. The only weapons that can truly kill demons are holy ones, so I would hope to grab a few holy swords.” 

He looked off to the side for a moment. ”I’ve got several in a very private collection… But I have watched as Satan himself was attacked by Micheal. To watch an archangel send wave after wave of holy soldiers into a pure black abyss, only to see but a wing fall to the ground! Goodness, it even sends chills to  _ my _ bones to think how powerful the demon is.” His tone exuded a type of strange admiration. It was only natural to respect such displays of power as well as be frightened of them.

_ Of course _ he would admire him.

“I have seen him set fire to angels in  _ righteous _ fury.” He made a fist and clenched it, his eyes lost in his explanation or rather, his fantasy. “Quite a sight to behold, I must say.” Satan was the absolute most powerful being in Hell. 

“Wait,” you interrupted. “I thought the extermination was because there were too many demons? Hell is overpopulated. Why would Michael send in troops to attack  _ Satan? _ ” Even you found it particularly stupid. No wonder they got demolished. You had always assumed, though, that it had been some sort of agreement between Satan and God, or something. But this? Well, you were stumped.

“There are many things that are popularized opinion, that does not make them true.” It was unspoken between him and the other Overlords- such a thing that he had passed on for many a reason. “Just as on the surface, what you hear on the news isn’t what is actually going on. Even in Hell, there are conspiracy theories.” But in Hell, most conspiracies held more truth than the denizens were ever prepared to listen to. 

One glance at you told him all that he needed to know. You needed more of an explanation and to that, he was willing to provide!

“Hell is a boundless void. Only what you have explored has been expanded upon and solidified by Lucifer. So why would a boundless void need population control? Unless, of course, God was fearful of his eternal rival accruing too many souls, enough so that the Almighty Himself would be overthrown…” He left the rest unsaid, hoping you would be able to understand what he was talking about. 

He sneered. “And why would such a _forgiving_, _loving_ _God_, have such high standards for his own cloud, unless he too was hiding something? You learn things down here that just ought to be left alone.” Hell was more than anyone would ever know, as were the people or deities that controlled its fate. 

You were completely pulled into the conspiracy theories, your eyes widening at certain points before relaxing, and the cogs in your mind starting up to piece together things that didn’t make sense. “It sounds unfair to me.” You huffed then, crossing your arms. “You taught me talking it out is a lot better than having a literal war. You would think that God and Satan would just talk it out.” 

“Oh, are you going to be the one to solve the eternal debacle? Are you going to set up the meeting between boundless light and darkness to set their petty beliefs aside to properly deal with endless souls?” He knew he sounded condescending, but there were some battles one had to choose for themselves. And this one was far too large for  _ any _ mortal soul to deal with. 

“No, I’m just talking about how I think it’s stupid.”

“Unless you would share these opinions with Satan himself, I think it would be wise to keep your opinions to yourself. He is boundless darkness remember? Do you think the shadows in Hell have no eyes?” There was a reason no one spoke about him. Who would want to put the many eyes of Satan on themselves? No one would. 

“Well  _ someone  _ needs to.” You scoffed.

You should have shut your damn mouth.

A charged, eerie silence fell over the room, and you noticed that just like in the nightmares you used to have at the hotel, the taxidermied deer heads suddenly had glowing red eyes. And then, just as suddenly as you had noticed, the glow was gone. And if you could have bristled like a cat, you would have. 

What the fuck? You were rendered speechless. “I-“ 

“Why do you think no one talks about him?” Alastor rolled his eyes. You had no sense of self-preservation. 

“Because he’s fucking cree—”

“Because he is  _ everywhere _ , you foolish girl.” He lowered his voice as he leaned in closer. “If you want to continue living your afterlife, I would advise you to shut _ . Your. Mouth. _ ” Alastor hadn’t snapped at you in what felt like forever. 

You blinked up at him silently. Lesson learned.

He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “He has no limits. No boundary, nothing will hold him back if you garner too much attention on yourself in his name. So if you want to stay here and out of the limelight, not the one  _ I _ put you in, but the one that will put you in more harm than I ever could, you need to learn when to be silent.” And then quieter, “I can’t protect you from him.” 

Alastor motioned to the grand space before you both with a clear of his throat. “Be lucky he warned you, you silly creature.” He was suddenly rubbing his temples.

You felt like a fucking  _ child _ being reprimanded. What kind of stupid-ass government system was this? No wonder Angel Dust didn’t keep up with politics. Couldn’t even voice your own thoughts without the chance of being smited. You closed your gaping mouth slowly before swallowing thickly. Were you being salty? Yeah, of course, you were. At least you could say whatever you wanted inside your mind. 

“Sorry.” You narrowed your eyes into the space of the room that was full of the deer heads. No wonder you thought they were always staring at you. It was because they  _ were.  _ Letting out a shuddering, nervous breath, you cleared your throat. “Can… we talk about something else?”

“You owe me a back rub!” He pointed, accusation thick on his tongue. “I wanted a lovely morning and then you do this!” He was trying to lighten the situation, but also, he felt he was deserving of such treatment after your outward stupidity. 

“The next time you want to have such a conversation, make sure it’s between us and make sure your opinions aren’t as judgemental. Satan does run the show and here you are mocking your landlord in front of him.” He shook his head. 

“I wasn’t mocking him, I was-“

“Well, ‘ _ someone should’,” _ Alastor mimicked perfectly, as well as eerily in your very own tone. “Or did I hear you differently?” He brought his face right next to yours, narrowing his eyes. 

You deflated. “No…”

“That’s right, don’t lie to me, and especially not to him. It’s not me you owe an apology to!” He eyed the shadows in his home and the many deer heads, “I’m sorry about her, she’s a bit of a fool on occasion, don’t worry, she’ll learn!” Apologizing to Satan on your behalf... He never would have thought. It suddenly dawned on him just how lonely his life had been without you. Sure, he had been safe from the threat of an endless void, but what fun was that? Alastor started getting comfortable because, at the moment, he had definitely put it in his mind that he was getting a back rub. 

You stood up for a moment so he could do just that, and while he unceremoniously flopped onto his stomach, you couldn’t help but stare up at the countless heads of deer that decorated his living room with uncertainty. An uncomfortable chill ran up your spine before you finally moved to sit atop his lower back. 

“So, a back rub? I guess I didn’t finish last night, huh?”

He looked up at you from the pillows, his eyes were heavily lidded with exhaustion from the previous conversation and a smaller, more genuine smile on his face. “Yes, I’d like that very much, please.” He shimmied his shoulders, trying to squish his body back into yours in this new position. 

“I’ve never had anyone rub my back before last night.” he admitted quietly. 

Of course, he had his gators and his precious Chester, but he had wandered aimlessly throughout much of his afterlife, going where he would find the most entertainment and whatnot. But was it entertainment he had been seeking all this time or simply a distraction from the lack of direction, lack of friends, lack of humanity in his life?

He shut his eyes at the sudden barrage of thoughts that were assaulting him. He didn’t want to think like that. He had been different since his birth, and there were few who wished to get to know such a strange and dangerous entity, let alone commit themselves to him. And in that case, you had been a special case from the very beginning. You hadn’t wanted his advances and he hadn’t even understood what he was doing until it was too late - to which he owed to his rather isolated life. 

You were teaching him so much about himself, and about who he could be when he was with you. He wriggled his back again. “Please?” He really did crave your touch. And if he needed to apologize to a mostly amorphous void with sentience to do it, well, it was small change compared to your company. 

Your heart felt light, fluttering with a happiness that only he could offer you, and something that snuffed out the original discomfort. In your time down here, you never did encounter something that made you feel how he did. He had some power over you that you could not quite explain, and you the willing victim; and you would forever be such. 

Willing to please him, willing to offer him your love that was practically endless - the two of you would undoubtedly go through hoops and hurdles, but that was natural, it was inevitable and it only made your relationship stronger in your mind. You splayed your left hand over his back before pushing yourself up with your elbow to sit up, only to lean over him and wind your legs around his sides so that you could get a better vantage point.

By doing so, that meant you would need to either hover over him or sit on him. You chose the latter. It was an intimate moment, you wouldn’t lie, and something that caused your heart to thrum at a pleasant note. “I don’t think I’ve ever rubbed someone’s back before.” You joked, lightly.

His back, too, was covered in scars; you couldn’t say you were surprised. You splayed both of your hands then, pressing your thumbs into the base of his neck and rubbing in small circles with just enough pressure. In all honesty, you didn’t really know what you were doing other than pressing in random areas and pressure points - massages weren’t your forte, but you could try. 

Leaning over him, you brought your lips to where his spine rested, before pressing a small kiss against him. “I’m not the best at this. Tell me if it hurts.” Your words were offered, each one brushing against his skin before you leaned back and slowly began to bring your hands towards you. 

“You won’t hurt me.” he whispered. He shut his eyes and let himself become lost in the way your hands mapped about his back. Every now and again he could feel your fingers trace a scar. Due to your nature for blurting every thought out, he was surprised you hadn’t asked him just  _ how _ he had gotten so many. He supposed it was in part you already knew they were his sins. 

He himself had lost count of the scars on his flesh, and the reasons as to why he remained carved. 

Mostly, he had mused, they were all due to the hedonistic way he viewed his own life. Sure when he did good things they may have been good, but they were all to better his own position. He was selfish and took pleasure in the way he harmed others. But it was just so much fun!

To be able to instill fear into the hearts of the weak, oh boy, there was nothing greater than to simply walk by and cause shivers of fear down the spines of weaklings! How could he  _ not  _ take joy in such a delicious show of power? He let out a low groan as your hands lowered on his back, smoothing and lightly pressing into the lean muscle that made up his anatomy. 

He supposed there were many types of pleasure. Darker pleasures that he was used to, the more carnal pleasure that he was discovering with you, and now even lighter ones. The light ones mostly consisted of innocent touches and were filled with kind emotions, caring ones that made him remember the better parts of his life. He wondered if you would ever be interested in learning about him from so long ago. 

If he could even remember it himself. 

Together you would discover the pasts that brought you to where you resided and together you would grow into something stronger. Two vines becoming so interwoven that no one would be able to discern where you began and where he joined you. It made his smile soften around the edges, turning sentimental in ways he was coming to know and grow fond of. 

“Has anyone ever rubbed your back before, my dear? Or can you remember such a thing?” One never knew with an amnesiac, but perhaps deep in your psyche, there was a flicker of something familiar about the situation. 

You remained quiet as you focused on your motions, on how to press your fingers, on which places that he seemed to enjoy more than others; everything was filed away for later as well as the present. It was an experiment in a sense, a way to discover his body the way he discovered yours time and time again. 

You didn’t find it odd that you were rubbing the Radio Demon’s back, nor did you think you would  _ ever  _ find such moments of intimacy weird. It was a moment of vulnerability, as most of your time with him had been. The two of you were constantly showing sides of each other that no one had ever experienced before - you supposed that was to be applied more to Alastor than you, considering you were rather open and outgoing with your personality and affections.

“Rubbed  _ my  _ back?” You questioned aloud, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried desperately to fish for some sort of memory that was heavily buried under a pile of nothingness. It was hard to imagine memories without them being triggered in some way, which made it even stranger when you did, in fact, faintly recall something. Your memories were similar to spilling water onto a letter, where all the ink would blend together and blur into something that could no longer be fully deciphered.

“I… think so? I don’t remember the finer details, but I think when I was little and scared of something, one of my parents would rub my back.” You scrunched your face up - in all honesty, you didn’t even know if the people in that particular memory were your parents, but it was the only thing that made sense. They were blurred, too. “But not like this,” you looked down to him, coming back to reality once more. Pausing in your rubs, you leaned over him and then practically rested on his back, flesh against flesh. “You know, I could stay here with you, like this, forever.” 

You pressed your lips to his shoulder, “and forever is a long time.” And you wanted to spend it with him. Was that too much to ask? 

It felt like he was melting into his couch. It was wonderful. The feeling of safety that stirred in his belly even though he was completely nude. “That’s completely among the realm of possibilities, you know. I suspect once the hotel is up and on its feet, there can be others who shall take our places… and then we can find solace and rest here. Perhaps I’ll even expand the swamp.” He could do whatever he wanted. As could you. He hoped above all hopes that you would continue to want to be around him and with him until the end of all. 

He wanted to stay with you, wherever you chose to go. He wanted to follow after you always and support you in your wants and aspirations. Perhaps you would find some hidden talent and make a career for yourself. Or you could get into the deal-making business! Oh, how he would adore to teach you the ways. He doubted it, but it was fun for him to think about it.

You were far too kind-hearted an individual to ever take advantage of another in the ways he was used to. You would make a very strange overlord should you actually rise among the ranks of demons. 

Oh, if you were an overlord, it would be through means of kindness. Goodness, you would likely be voted into the position as if there was a democracy down here. 

“THE  _ HOTEL! _ ” You yelled directly into his ear, a bit too loud. “Oh, sorry!” You reached up and gently rubbed his ear to appease him, “I just- the hotel!” You rolled off of him. “I forgot about the hotel!” You cried out, pulling the blankets off of you and sliding off of the couch. You barely noticed the coldness of the floor or how the room temperature seemed a lot colder when met to bare skin.

You couldn’t believe you actually let the hotel escape your thoughts. “I didn’t tell them I was safe, or that I found you. Do you have a phone? No, that’s electricity? But a radiogram! I need to tell them I’m okay!” Your arms extended over your head before you promptly flopped down back onto the couch, or rather, directly next to him, your body bouncing a few times. And then your hands fell to cover your eyes, a groan falling from your lips. “What am I going to do…” 

Thoroughly freak out? Check. Ruin the moment? Double-check.

“A radiogram?” He turned to you quizzically. 

“Calm yourself, darling, it’s all right.” He pushed himself up and turned, settling his back against the armrest. “Chester?” The shadow being was at his side immediately, great blue eyes gleaming. Alastor swirled his wrists in the air, summoning a scroll of parchment and a fountain pen. 

“Dearest Charlie and Company,” he read aloud while he quickly wrote out his thoughts. “My darling and I have reunited and have been taking a break from our responsibilities. It has only now dawned upon us that we are indeed employed by you. Speaking of employment, it has also occurred to me that I resigned. Do burn my letter as it is no longer applicable to the current situation. I will happily take up my post once more and aid the princess in her endeavors.” He turned to you and tapped the butt of the pen to his lips. “Everyone is safe and sound.” He touched the paper with one of his fingers and it rolled itself up.

“Chester, if you would be a dear and deliver this to our friends at the hotel,” The black shadow nodded curtly and wooshed out of the room after grabbing the quickly drafted note. “That should take care of that.”

He carelessly flopped back onto you. “So, where were we?”

He had a way of making you feel better, of easing your anxieties in a way that no medication could ever hope to do. He was the antidote to the poison of your mind, your aimless thoughts and worries. You watched the entire situation unravel before your eyes, blinking silently as you listened to how elegant his words truly became. Even when writing letters to put worries of being eaten by alligators to rest, he had a way of making it seem it was addressed to royalty; you supposed in that case, it was. 

Charlie was a princess, and while she had royal blood, it sometimes escaped you with how  _ average  _ she was. She was exuberant and excitable, but she dressed like the rest of the demons. It made her easier to be comfortable with. You looked up to him then, a small smile forming upon your lips. “I think I owe you a kiss,” as a thank-you, of course. 

“I suppose that is ample payment, but it’s not necessary.” He moved so his head would be more comfortably resting on the armrest. “However it would still be nice, nonetheless.” He closed his eyes in anticipation of your kiss. 

There was a deeper sense of familiarity here, something so casual and yet still so sweet and fragile all at the same time. It was something he was growing to treasure and treat as a precious heirloom. He was not willing to mess anything up just as you were. He too needed to find the proper balance within himself so as to keep himself grounded while not only acting on his often selfish desires. He wanted to be good, if only for you. You would be the sole person that would receive the selflessness and kindness where he meant it. You would forever be the owner of his heart and the cause for any good deeds he may do or cause. 

It would always be you.

You made a face. “I can’t reach you. Lean in.”

“Well, I’m not moving, so you had best figure out a way.” Alastor merely cozied himself more by outstretching his arms and gathering all of the blankets in his grasp to surround him. 

Your expression contorted for a moment before you let out an equally dramatic sigh that you had noticed him do on different occasions, bringing your hand up and kissing your palm. You brought your arm back up to him and then pressed your hand to his cheek - “There.” A smug grin formed upon your lips, your eyes crinkling with mischievous delight. Nevertheless, once such things were completed, you settled back down into the pillows that he hadn’t pulled towards him, and let your eyes close.

You were both awfully dramatic, considering there was only about half a foot between the two of you. It was a large couch.

Sleep no longer plagued you as it had only moments ago before your grand realization; for you found yourself at a loss on what to do next. The hotel felt like a figment of your imagination now more than ever; all the memories tied to that place having no grand importance now that your time consisted of spending every moment with Alastor. 

It had always been a worry that you would never move on, that you would always be haunted by your memories and yes, while you were still a creature of trauma - your time with him, within the past few days, had been the first time you  _ hadn’t  _ thought about it. It was the first time your thoughts didn’t buzz around your mind in every waking moment, you no longer thought or worried to the brink of exhaustion about possibilities or scenarios that would never exist as they had already come to pass. 

You had begun to truly fight back with the goal to  _ grow _ from your experiences, not suffocate beneath them. 

“I’m not going to lie,” you murmured, your eyes tracing the ceiling, drifting around the room aimlessly. “I’m kinda nervous to go back.” You looked up to him, then, your hands falling to his ears to very gently massage them; they were sensitive, you knew, but you were also aware that he enjoyed it. 

The closer to the tips you got, the lighter your touches became until your fingertips barely traced over the individual hairs. “Since I came here, we’ve become closer and I like that. I like spending time with you - I just… hope that things won’t change once we’re back at the hotel. That place holds a lot of memories, and it’s been  _ good  _ here.” 

You felt like you could finally breathe here. “But I know we have to,” you sighed through your nose. You still had Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, Angel, and the other residents to attend to (if there were some more arrivals since you had left). “I don’t know  _ what  _ I’m nervous about, really, maybe it’s just the jitters.” You brought your hands back down to the base of his ears, one of your fingers loosely twirling a strand of his vibrant hair before letting it fall back down into the mop of bed head. 

“Going back to a job, seeing people that you haven’t seen for a while, not knowing what awaits you when you do - what changed, what didn’t.” 

You fell back into a thoughtless silence for a moment before continuing. “What about you? What’s the  _ Radio Demon _ ,” you brought your hand down to gently pinch his cheek between your thumb and forefinger, a breath of amusement falling from you, “going to do when he gets back?” Before you brought your hand back up to continue to toy with his ears. You seriously had forgotten how fluffy they were - there was so much fur (or was it hair?) that you could barely feel the cartilage until you buried your hands in them.

Amazing. 

Alastor kept his eyes closed merely so he could soak in the sensations from your hands without his other senses dulling the experience. What would he do when you both decided to go back? “I’ll continue helping Charlie with her plans… the struggle is so very amusing- watching demons try to do well only for them to slip even further into the pits of despair!” He hummed with contentment after his statement. “I refuse to acknowledge the most likely disappointed look on your face. If I can’t see it, it’s not real.” 

The time he had spent with you in his home had been surreal. There had been so many ups and downs. He had walked through many emotions with you; more so than he had in decades. He had almost forgotten what certain emotions felt like. Sadness was one he was happy to not rediscover, he felt the same about the anxiety that now plagued him. 

Though with the gentle caresses being granted to his ears, he felt it was quelled somewhat. “You know we have little to worry about. Charlie is more than forgiving.” The two of you jumped at the hollow metallic whir that erupted from Chester’s mouth. 

A black hand reached out towards his master. Alastor’s eyes had popped open at the sound that had resonated through the room. He grabbed the offered paper from his shadow. “Thank you, Chester darling.” The shadow nodded and fell back into the floor, dissipating like black smoke. Alastor eyed the paper only to see two words. 

**Groceries** **. -Vaggie**

A hearty chuckle left him. So someone had noticed that he had actually done things around the hotel. Suits them right for always thinking the worst, though he could hardly blame them. It  _ was _ Hell after all. He handed you the short note with a laugh and pressed his face into your neck. 

You both had been inside a bubble, but perhaps testing the waters out in the world would do you both good. Reestablish boundaries and practice healthy means of being together, yes it would be good for you. He sighed into your skin. This would always be a haven for both of you.

In all honesty, you did find it strange how the princess of Hell did, in fact, act so forgiving; her empathy was through the roof and it often rivaled your own. Albeit, you hadn’t necessarily thought that Lucifer would have been the way that he was, either. The only one that really made sense in terms of personality was Lilith, and even then, you didn’t know jack shit about her. You knew the story of how she and Lucifer came together and had Charlie, you had also seen posters around the city stating that she was available in concert, but beyond that? 

Charlie didn’t often speak of her parents.

As open as she was, you never really asked about the true reasoning behind the hotel. Sure, there was the common sense about Hell being overpopulated - but if Heaven was just as bad, if not  _ worse,  _ what was the point? You guessed, though, that some demons would willingly trade their existence down here to be purified in God’s light. Your thoughts fell to the lamb that had entered the hotel weeks back, and how eager she was to reunite with her family in Heaven.

Family - perhaps that’s one of the reasons Heaven was soured in your mind besides, of course, being sent down here in the first place; you didn’t  _ have  _ family that you remembered. The hotel was your family,  _ Alastor  _ was your family. You took the letter out of his hand and opened it - sure enough in capital writing and multiple underlines were the exact words he had read. 

You closed the letter, before placing it by your side. “I guess she doesn’t want to do the grocery shopping anymore,” you laughed as you attempted to place your legs between his. 

“Though, I don’t think we can go grocery shopping dressed like  _ this,”  _ you moved your head closer to his, and in doing so, bumping your neck against him. With him being shirtless, and you in the dress still. You closed your eyes, a coquettish grin morphing onto your face - “Though, I can’t say I don’t like it.” Did you know how to flirt? Fuck no. Were you still trying? … Unfortunately. 

“I can do whatever I want dressed like this!” Alastor snapped his fingers in a quick jazzy rhythm. “That should help our poor little Vaggie.” Honestly Alastor never really had the need to leave anywhere. He did whatever he wanted. Right now he wanted to continue to lay in bed with you. 

“Though I can see how you have your drawbacks. It must be so inconvenient not to have magic.” he lamented sadly. He squeezed his thighs around one of your legs and wrapped an arm about your body. “Do you still want to learn magic?” My, my, my, he was becoming quite the mentor to you. Demon lessons, potentially magic lessons as well. Why did it fill him with such happiness? 

Perhaps he merely wanted to see you turn into a powerful being, truly come into your own. Oh, how lovely that would be! He briefly wondered what the future held for you and your potential. Every demon could perform magic if they practiced enough, but some allowed their gifts to slip away. 

Oh, he wanted to help you harness yours until you buzzed with magic as he did. How entertaining it would be!

“Or would you rather laze about for the remainder of our time here? As I recall, you took your responsibilities far more seriously than I.” Most of the denizens of Hell thought the hotel’s entire premise was a joke, and he did too, but for different reasons. 

Then a painful thought struck him.

What if Charlie actually did succeed? You were the most likely candidate to redeem yourself. He knew you said earlier on that you didn’t want to go to heaven, but would you have a choice? Or would God take you from him? He simply couldn’t bear the thought of anyone taking you. 

Alastor rolled himself on top of you, placing his cheek onto your sternum. He wouldn’t let anyone take you, come hell or high water, you were  _ his _ . 

Your eyes crinkled in the corners as a laugh escaped you. He was, without a doubt, one of the if not the most, dramatic beings Hell had ever seen. “I think I want to kill two birds with one stone.” Magic seemed like something that didn’t exist - a myth amongst reality, to fantasize about but never truly possess. Yet, you had the ability to do just that - and a willing teacher to boot. “I don’t think I can do physical training today, though.” There was a warmth in your cheeks at the thought, a buzz in your stomach that reminded you of what had happened the night before. It caused you to feel giddy, energized; it made your heart flutter, too. 

The good kind.

“I want to stay like this for as long as possible, but I also want to learn. Is there,” you dipped your head awkwardly to nudge his nose with your own, “any possibility you can do that?” Paired with fluttering eyelashes, you doubted there was anything you  _ couldn’t  _ do. 

“I suppose. But it is in part paired with your more demonic self.” he mused aloud. He wondered if it would be any easier for you to practice magic first and then delve into the realm of transformation. “I want you to first clear your mind and only allow my voice to fill it so I may guide you. Do not let anything or anyone distract you.” 

Being able to ignore outside forces was an important skill. Especially when it came to self-control. It was a way of harnessing your power, emotions, soul and channeling it into something tangible. For him, he was a master of summoning and creating. Enchantments and spells came easier after that, but being able to summon a known object to one’s person was a skill that came in handy far more often than one would think.

However, you would first need to be able to control yourself. He was well aware discipline was one of your weaker traits. “Do you think you can handle that?” 

“I can try.” You murmured, before bringing your head back to lay it upon the innumerable amount of pillows that surrounded the two of you. It was difficult to be able to focus on a singular thing without a thousand other different problems seeping into and tainting your once simple thoughts. That was the thing with your mind - what would have once been a single thought soon manifested into many, spinning out of control until you suffocated underneath the weight of it. 

But you had never tried to focus on a singular thing, an individual. You slowly closed your eyes, the darkness taking up your vision as you focused on relaxing your breathing, and then him. “Okay.” 

“Describe it to me, your mind, what do you feel right now?” With any hope, you should be able to clear your mind of any distractions. It was easier to focus on a different person than it was to focus on one’s self. It was one of the many great mysteries of the universe. “If there are any trains of thought that are rolling through your mind, allow them to fall away. Nothing matters right now but you and I. Our only goal is your focus.” He tried to keep his static at a minimum, even going as far to place you both in a soundproof bubble in a sense. 

“Let the world fall away, leave your body, and only allow my voice to follow you.” He darkened the room further by shutting the blinds and letting Chester’s restraints fall to the wayside so his shade would slowly encase the room in complete blackness. 

“Nothingness is not fear, but free space in order for you to build. Never fear your own darkness, for within lays the potential for you to build yourself anew.” He kept his breath even and light, his voice a mere whisper as his ear was pressed to your chest, listening to the thumping of your heart. 

Your thoughts turned to wordless emotions - you hadn’t much to think about that you hadn’t already thought of, and while that was definitely something that you did, the entirety of your focus was simply in the moment. The weight of his body on you, the darkness behind your eyes, how his breath tickled your skin, the meaning behind each of his words. The faint red light that gave a semblance of color to the otherwise expanding void of darkness faded away into the nothingness he described, twisting and turning into a pit of oblivion that would continue to ebb and twist with each new emotion that found its way into your mind. You had believed, once, that your mind was simply too full to have existing space, but your hypothesis had been proven wrong.

You were experiencing first hand that nothingness was, well, surprisingly peaceful.“It’s dark,” you murmured, your eyebrows scrunching together for a moment before relaxing again. “Empty, for once. But no, wait - it’s not.” It was all very strange, to be in your own mind and yet not, all at the same time. “It’s like a room, but there’s nothing in it except darkness and… water. There’s water underneath me, but…” Why was there water? If this was some sick trick about you having died by drowning, you swore you were gonna— The moment you lost focus for the briefest of seconds, though, you were plunged right into the water and you shot up, your eyes opened as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice onto you. Your heart picked up in pace as your fingers gripped the blankets tightly. 

The fine hairs at the base of your neck had stood on their end, chills running down your arms and legs before you swallowed harshly. “It’s hard. If... I observe something, I automatically think of why it’s there and all the different things that apply to it, like, water equals my death, right? I can’t focus for long.” It took a moment for you to calm back down, your heart thumping wildly in your chest as you slowly lowered yourself back into the pillows. 

“When I lost focus, I was plunged into the water.” 

“Hmmm. To be quite honest with you I didn’t even expect you to get that far. This is excellent progress! I assume most demons aren’t even able to get to that first step. Knowing that you actually can push past your wall of thought is impressive, but that’s enough for today.” It took a great deal of self-control to empty one’s mind. Even being able to do it at all showed him you had reached some semblance of self peace. 

“You know that space you were describing, it’s different for everyone. I’ve heard some describe it as a white room, others it’s their home. For me it’s always been the swamp. It’s where I find my peace. Humorous that you should find yours in a dark room filled with water…” He pulled away from you only to settle himself next to you once more. 

Perhaps that was only the beginning for you though. To really get to the bottom of it all, he knew you would have to accept the plunge into the water. Or at least he theorized it to be so. For him, it was wading deeper into the swamp. Perhaps you needed to explore your own depths of your mind. 

Interesting. 

“Well, I’m starving!” He snapped breakfast into the room. He was feeling rather lazy and he was entitled to be. It was his home after all. The shade drifted away like mist and the curtains opened slightly once more to bring in that faded red glow. “I say we laze about on the couch and tomorrow we can return to the hotel. What do you think, sharkling?”

You blinked before slowly nodding, pushing yourself up into a seated position. You were beginning to grow accustomed to the sheer amount of food that he made, and you found yourself enthralled in the thought of his recipes. You had always been ridiculously picky to the point of you even annoying yourself; and you were beginning to wonder if that would be a bigger hurdle to get over than giving yourself peace of mind. Hah. 

“Sounds good.” You leaned over as he sat back and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for helping me.”

Without him, you would have been lost. It was a thought that you weren’t willing to, for once, think about. It was something that caused fear to churn in your gut, a sensation of loneliness. It was all incredibly unsatisfying, and you pushed those thoughts away just as quickly as they came. They were fueled by anxiety and anxiety alone, with no root as there was no problem. Your attention fell to the assortment of breakfast foods then, and you reached over for a plate to grab a waffle (his waffles were huge!), some eggs, and bacon. Oh, and a croissant too. Yum. 

“You told me,” you cut up the waffle and began to chew, only to soon after swallow. “That your mother was a cook, right? Or she owned a restaurant?” Praise be his mother, she had wicked recipes. Your curiosity truly knew no bounds, however, and you hesitantly crept into a different question: “... Do you know anything about your dad?”

Alastor’s body froze in response to your question. His knuckles whitened with how hard he was suddenly holding his silverware. “I know he was the first person I sought out and slaughtered when I fell…” He hadn’t thought about the man in decades. “He would beat my mother and I. So, my mother killed him in self-defense.” His head was downturned in an attempt to hide his radio dials. “The man is an evil bastard.” He shook his head and calmed himself before looking back up to you with his usual smile. 

“I don’t like to bring him up in conversation because he simply isn’t worth it! A terrible topic of conversation, surely!” He dropped the darkness that sprung upon with your question, shedding it like an old skin. “What about you, what have you found out about yourself down here?” There was no use digging into your unknown past as it was, unknown. But he would rather hear your thoughts about everything you’ve learned about yourself. “What do you like?”

Sore topic. You understood. You also felt sort of bad for asking to begin with, but you knew that you couldn’t have known. Despite him having dipped his head and your own eyes filled to the brim with sudden concern, the static that filled the vicinity aided in telling you that it was something that he wasn’t willing to go in on; and you’d respect that. 

Your  _ thoughts,  _ however, had no qualms about fluttering with snippy comments about his father in an instinctual desire to protect him despite Alastor being completely capable of protecting himself. What sort of shitty father— 

What about you? “Huh?” You barely noticed that you had begun to stuff your face with the waffle until it almost fell out of your mouth. Oh shit. “Uh.” An uncertain laugh then, what  _ about  _ you? You quickly swallowed down the waffle and placed the fork down for a moment with a  _ clink. _

“I guess I like routine. I also like playing around with Critter and Fat Nuggets - did you know that I taught Fat Nuggets tricks?” You puffed out your chest. “Yeah! I taught him how to roll over and sit. The first time I did it was with the cookies that you made me.” And then you were reminded about the  _ cookies!  _ And the heart on the table. It hadn’t been funny then, but it sure as hell was now. Your laughter told it all: “I can’t believe you put a heart on the table!” You began to lean into him then subconsciously, resting against his arm as you battled with your fit of giggles. “I-I mean who told you— Haha!”

Alastor released a playful huff of laughter. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, I needed plenty of teaching and coaching on how to properly woo you. Besides! That silly little heart wasn’t a real heart, I  _ got _ you a real heart and it was still beating, much more romantic than any bumpy equilateral triangle!” He leaned into you just as you did to him and he found the previous discomfort in conversation gone. 

And the day continued as such.

Neither of you felt the need to dress and so when either of you needed anything, Alastor snapped it into existence. Slow kisses and sweet words were exchanged for hours. Tidbits of information, some new, some old, some shared memories were reminisced and appreciated under a new light. Thankfully time had softened some of the more grotesque of his wooing tactics. 

He was able to share some of his favorite moments, which included when you punched him in the face and broke his monocle. He was pretty sure that was the solidifying moment when he fell in love with you, even if he hadn’t realized that at the time. You had to tell him of course. 

It was a slow lazy day, no responsibilities, no expectations, only the love shared between two demons learning how to be happiest together. 

And perhaps that was the closest to Heaven that the two of you would ever reach.


	65. Do You Want To See Uncle Cracker Or No?

The short stint where the two of you had stayed in his cabin (which just so happen to be located in the swamp, absolutely ridiculous) had been a much-needed reprieve from prying eyes and influences that didn’t fully understand the relationship you both were trying to mend and maintain. Decrepit information, misunderstandings, and a thousand other plausible events that could happen outside of the safety net that the two of you had shared. There were far too many outside factors back at the hotel and as such, Alastor held some of his own reservations about returning.

Things that he had yet to share with you, thoughtless questions and concerns that only really came to the surface in moments like these, where the weight of your head was resting peacefully atop his bicep, where the soft red glow of morning cascaded onto your flesh and turned it into something far more  _ hellish _ in comparison to your nearly angelic complexion. But perhaps he was being a bit over-dramatic, your flawless having manifested through a series of events that led up to the moment of your utter demise. 

How absolutely delectable to discover that the stories that your soul had harbored in your previous life had all been forgotten, save for a few minor hiccups here and there. 

You had retained so much of your humanity while the individuals that walked the streets turned into ghoulish creatures that went bump in the night; many of them mirroring descriptions of myths and legends, while others simply became anthropomorphic animals. When it came to you, though, he often found himself forgetting that you weren’t alive. That you had the rest of eternity to endure with _him, _and selfishly, he found himself rather fond of that development. His fingertips absentmindedly smoothed across your exposed shoulder, half-lidded stare in something that wouldn’t be far from some sort of daze.

Thoughts, like an overflowing sink, began to spill into his mind as his consciousness filled the cracks of his otherwise sleepy mind. 

It was almost therapeutic being here with you, and as more and more thoughts began to threaten his mind with anxieties he couldn’t control, Alastor let out a heavy sigh. One story, one simple story had managed to dissuade you from the truth - from  _ him. _ He wasn’t entirely sure just how much you trusted him at this point; his faith that had once remained unshaken with you prior was now questioned. How surreal it was that you were even here at all. 

It was difficult to comprehend being an entity controlled by anxiety, and quite frankly it pissed him off to a certain degree. He was frustrated with the sudden development in regards to how  _ clingy  _ he had begun to be with you, whereas decades ago he had only needed himself and himself only. Where had the time gone? The days of his youth where he could bathe in sinners blood and have no repercussions! Good days indeed, and yet here he was, holding the one individual that held the power to crush him in her palm. 

You didn’t even know how powerful you were.

How foolish it was when others doubted themselves! Their uncertainty betraying their lack of knowledge and self-assurance, it was all quite amusing, really. Alastor’s cruelty and criminal prowess were well known throughout the circles of Hell, but now that you were in his life, he had turned into a man possessed. His only desire to offer you affection and goodwill in return for your company and, on occasion, tenderness. In this undiscovered sea, he was a sailor reluctant to have others unearth you. 

Egocentricity at its finest.

All of this had started with him being selfish, had it not? His little announcement - oh no, not little. No, no, no. It had been an announcement of the grandest kind! The Radio Demon in love, oh yes, it was quite grand and indisputably selfish. To learn to listen to you, your safety, needs, had only recently been a constant on his mind; you were to be included in the thoughts that led his actions which ultimately meant that he couldn’t be as impulsive as he had been when he had first met you. 

Which... had the potential to be quite bothersome considering some of his best ideas were ones he never gave much thought to, but! You were more important than any scheme he had yet to discover or plan. You were his lover, his partner in crime, his little sharkling.  _ His _ .

He let out a full-bodied sigh and pulled you so your head would fall into the crook of his neck. 

He was sure enough that you both, whatever trials and tribulations you should face when you both returned, would be able to face them together. With that thought, the smile that had been bizarrely absent from his expression returned before you could even open your eyes. 

“You know you sigh a lot when you’re thinking.” 

You had been awake for a few moments, not long, but just enough for you to pick up on the subtle actions that betrayed his innermost thoughts. He wasn’t easy to pick up on when he was bothered by something, half of the time you were left grasping at straws. He would always be an enigma in the most mysterious of senses, always keeping you on your toes despite feeling comfortable with his presence. It was just how he was. You moved your head to brush your nose against his jugular, your lips pressing a sleepy kiss to his flesh. He was so warm.

“What are you thinking about?”

The reverberation within his throat as he grunted vibrates against your lips as you rested your head within the crook of his neck, a tightness folding around you as his arms wound securely over what they could, which was almost the entirety of your torso. It was difficult to imagine Alastor being reserved to the point where he kept things to himself considering how brash and loud he was on a daily basis (really, the man had no understanding of using his ‘inside voice’), but you had learned a side to him that you were rather confident in keeping secret. Like him, you wanted to keep him secret as well. For as long as you possibly could.

“I don’t want to go back.” Alastor started, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him prattle on. “I know our relationship is safe here, but at the hotel… That effeminate spider is just spinning webs to lure you into his clutches and ruin us! Darling, we should stay!” He pushed you back only to look at you, nodding his head vigorously at his own plan. 

You barely even realized you had been dozing off again until he did, and you were left to blink at him in confoundment before realization settled in. Just as you were about to open your mouth, he rushed to fill the silence with more words that almost sounded like he was trying to  _ convince  _ you.

“How about it, let us continue to ignore our growing responsibilities and stay here!” He knew—actually that was a bald-faced lie—he knew  _ nothing _ about your thoughts on the matter and that’s what worried him. Perhaps he wasn’t ready. He pulled you back into his arms and just held you, hoping your answer would be the one he wanted. 

There was a soft smile on your lips.  _ So that’s what the problem was. _ When you were pressed back into him, you let your head rest against his chest, your fingers gently tracing his scars, watching in half-interest at how your touch affected him. “You know we have to.” You didn’t take Alastor as someone who  _ didn’t  _ want to take responsibility, considering he was a particularly busy guy. Then again, he hadn’t taken responsibility at first when it came to you, either, but that was behind you. He did now, and that was all that mattered. You reached down in hopes to grab his hand and pull it up out of the cover. 

“Our relationship is secure.” 

You brought his hand to your lips, in which you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “The  _ effeminate spider _ isn’t going to be a problem anymore, okay? I’ve been trying to… grow from the worrisome person I was, and yeah it helped being here with you,” your voice was soft, a whisper at most. You doubted he would have trouble hearing you, though. “But we can’t stay here forever.” You leaned back, raising your head to peer up at him. You remained quiet for a moment, your eyebrows scrunching in worry. 

“You do trust me, right?” You have given him reasons not to, sure, but after the multiple talks you had, you hoped that at least a spark remained.

“It’s not  _ you _ I don’t trust. It’s everyone else.” He explained. “I simply cannot control what others say to you about me. I have done my best to show you who I am, all of me, and I need to trust that was enough for you.” He spread out his fingers, rubbing each one across your lips. 

“I seem to have developed anxiety of some sort and I am not exactly keen on seeing us or that tested at the moment,” he commented dryly. “By the way, it is fully in our power to stay here forever. We don’t have to do anything.” Now he was sounding petulant, and he was feeling like it too. 

You didn’t mean to laugh, seriously. Honestly! It just… escaped you. “Sorry, I’m not laughing because of what you said. Those are good reasons.” He always had a particularly boyish trait in his personality that only showed full-force when he didn’t want to do something. 

“Anyways, I know we  _ could  _ stay here forever,” you could quite literally stay here for the rest of eternity if you so chose, and honestly? It probably would be safer. You blinked heavily, mostly to aid in getting the sleep out of your eyes. Anxiety was something that not a soul knew better than you did, and you fought with it long before this moment. 

“Al, if you really don’t feel comfortable going back today, you don’t have to. I just thought that-” you lifted yourself up slightly before rolling off to the side and slipping off of the couch. On the counter, there was a fresh set of his normal attire - something that you had run up the stairs to grab as you changed for the night the prior evening. It was funny to think that sleeping on the couch could be considered a ‘sleepover’, but you couldn’t think of a better term for it. 

All you knew when you went upstairs to change, was that you did not want to sleep in a dress again. There was also your own clothing that laid neatly next to his, and you couldn’t help but notice how eerily similar they were to the originals. Funky. Sure, he could have easily snapped you into something new - but sometimes you liked to feel.. normal? His talent and powers were helpful, and once you learned similar ones (if that could ever even happen), you probably would never take the longer path again, but for right now, it was almost comforting.

Your lips curled into a teasing smile as you turned back around. “-That you would like to join me when  _ I  _ returned.” You wanted to go back. You were nervous, sure, but it was muted by your eagerness. You leaned over him before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, your breath puffing onto his face. 

“If you come with me, I’ll let you dress me up!” Your voice held an excitable sing-songy lilt, your eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Alastor sat up, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s tempting, but why dress up when we could remain half-dressed forever, here? Now the hotel isn’t exactly clothing-optional, much to that rotted scums displeasure…” He narrowed his eyes as you handed him his suit. “We should stay. Angel Dust is safer that way.” He pulled the blankets up around his shoulders as he watched you. 

Half-dressed in his terms meant shirtless for himself and you without pants on. You would have had them on if you hadn’t been as comfortable as you were with him, or if he didn’t live in a swamp. As winter was ending, the temperature fluctuations had started, and being in a swamp where it was naturally muggy was something that didn’t help. Thankfully, there was still some chill left and you wouldn’t be seen leaving without a jacket. But in the warmth of his home, you could afford to be comfortable.

Now was your turn to cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean? I told you not to hurt him.” When you watched him pull the blankets closer to him, you unwound your arms and grabbed the edge of his blanket.

“You told me not to  _ kill _ him. I’ll have you know there’s a big difference!” The words were muffled through the layers of fabric he was speaking through. 

“He’s already dead.” You tried to tug the blanket off of him. 

“So, a little torture should suit him fine then.”

“ _ Alastor.” _ You huffed, your grip increasing on the blanket before you yanked it off of him. You repositioned the clothes under your arm before you tossed them to him. “Just don’t torture him too much, alright? And give him a chance and talk to him first. It wasn’t… really his fault.” You rubbed your arm. 

“It’s like you said, us returning isn’t going to stop people from talking. I just need to stop listening so much.” 

“Well at least this way I know if you see him next missing his limbs, you shan’t be surprised.” 

“No heinous injuries either Alastor- I’m serious!” Alastor made a huffing sound to acknowledge your silly limitations and was nonplussed at how you so rudely ripped the blankets from around him, however, he had something at his disposal you did not. 

He snapped his fingers, bringing the blankets to wrap about his form once more.

You crossed your arms even tighter. 

“You know, it won’t be as private at the hotel, we’ll have to learn to be quiet,” he hinted with a smirk. “All your precious little noises will have to be stifled, which is a shame really. You’re quite the songbird!”

_ “ALASTOR!” _

You were going to have a fucking conniption. 

You buried your face into the material of your own clothing, because you were pretty damn sure that your face was all sorts of shades of red. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt a chill run down your spine. Was he trying to kill you? He was doing a pretty damn good job at it! You honestly had even stopped rummaging through the clothing at this point, just to ease your breathing. 

He was being such a child. 

A ridiculously handsome child- that sounded wrong. Fuckin’ ugh! You let out a loud groan before you started to take off your pajamas to get changed. He was silent during it all, and without even turning around, you were fifty percent sure he had either fallen back asleep or was staring at you like a creep. When you finally got your underwear and pants on, you spun around and scrunched your nose. 

“ _ Why _ ?” You motioned with your head towards him, or more so where he was. You held your bra and arms tightly against your chest. You supposed it was also nice to be so comfortable with someone that you didn’t have to be worried about them immediately sexualizing your body. 

But you also needed help clasping your bra.

“Why what?”

“Why are you still on the couch? We have to  _ do  _ things, Al. People to see, places to go!”

“I try not to make a habit of doing things I don’t want to.” Alastor rolled over onto his side before continuing: “Besides, you seem to be happy enough to leave me all alone while  _ you _ go back to the hotel. How cruel!” He knew he was being difficult, but he really didn’t want to go.

“We can come back.” You ran your hand through the tresses of your hair, a heavy, audible sigh escaping you. You closed your eyes for a moment to right and compose yourself, moving to him before draping yourself over his body. “I just want to check in with them,” your lips found their way to his exposed shoulder. “Then we can come back.” You lied. You knew that once you got there you were going to stay for a bit, but you needed him to  _ bring  _ you there, to begin with.

He stopped himself for a moment. This was one of those moments where he needed to be mindful. You both needed to go back to reality, and right now for you both that was at the hotel. 

He was being selfish again, going as far as to guilt you into staying here. 

“And yes, we might have to be quiet there-” you breathed, “but when we come back here, we can be as loud as we want.” That being said, you tried once again to peel the blankets off of him, distracting him by placing kisses against his shoulder. 

“Darling, you’re right. We should go back.”

You paused.

“I am?” You blinked owlishly, pulling away. And then suspicion set in. “I am…”

“Yes.” he reluctantly sighed. “You are right. I’m acting unfairly because of my own worries, but you are right! We need to return.” He wasn’t really in the habit of admitting when he was wrong either, but… New lands. “I suppose I can get ready.” He turned over to face you, getting dressed and ready to face the world. This time he was the one who caught sans pants. How wonderful. 

You were about to ask what caused him to just give in immediately before you decided to just take what you could get. Slowly, you nodded and leaned back, using his body to push yourself back up. “Great!” You flashed him a smile before reaching over to grab the clothes on the table. 

“Do you think Critter should come with us? Or should he stay with his family?” You weren’t sure. You loved the alligator, truly, but he was a wild animal. If his family could raise him better then perhaps it was best.

But Alastor knew more about the species than you did.

Sliding the bra on, you backed into the couch. “Can you get this?” You could do it yourself, but it was so much easier for him to get the clasps for you. And you could afford to be lazy.

“Yes.” And Alastor could still pout! He nimbly grabbed the clasps and hooked them in place. “These things look to be more effort than they’re worth.” They seemed to be their own special brand of torture to him.

You let out a laugh. “Actually, they’re helpful.” He would never understand the horrors of having breasts. 

“Are stairs hazardous to you?” He had heard of the troubles… The pains of running. They seemed to be hell in their own right. 

“What?” You were confused.

“I’ve known women in my life before you. Not as intimately or as emotionally close as we are, but I have heard of their troubles. Breasts seem to be invented by the devil himself! I’m sorry, darling.” He pat you on your chest as if the action would ease your womanly pain, making you raise an eyebrow.

He was just stupid. 

You let out a breath of amusement. “No, they’re not for me. They can be for bigger women though! Apparently, if you take the stairs too fast, you can get a black eye, and then your ribs can be pulled out of your body.” You rubbed your chin. “Or so I  _ read _ .” 

“What enlightening articles are you reading?” He snapped himself into his own clothing. 

“They’re called the  _ Atlas Chronicles _ .” Charlie had a habit of keeping all sorts of magazines and such in the lobby and bathrooms- it had become one of your few views into the life outside of your own bubble of the hotel.

“Oh. That little demon. You know, she’s told me the same thing. She’s a bit… of an acquired taste. Perhaps we could shop at her place sometime!” 

Your face heated up. “Doesn’t… she work at a sex shop?” You didn’t snoop around Angel’s room, nope- and you sure as hell hadn’t noticed some of the brand names on his assorted packages he had delivered all the time.

“Darling, she doesn’t work at a sex shop, you silly thing. She  _ owns _ a sex shop, ha-ha! Completely different!” He finally stood and brought you to his side. “Imagine the wonders we could find! Why I’ve never been interested in such things before, it could be so entertaining, for the  _ both _ of us!”

“I-” You were melting. 

You buried your face into his side in hopes to hide your own embarrassment. He was going to be the end of you, you swore. “Let me… Get finished changing and ah, we can uh, heh. Go back to the hotel.” You leaned back, and if he looked down at you, he would certainly be able to see that his words definitely did a number on you.

Damn it.

“Oh, alrighty then. I shall grab Critter. You seem to have adopted him as your own and as he’s shared, he’s rather fond of you as well.” He bent over, not mentioning the color of your face, and pecked your temple. “I’ll see you just outside!” And you watched as he happily marched his smart ass out of your sight. 

The moment that he turned down the hall, you deflated against the side of the couch. Your stability was completely out the window - he didn’t even  _ know  _ the effect he had on you. Gripping the edge, you cleared your throat and turned your attention back to the clothes. Everything was to the point, and you weren’t willing to mention the fact that you had almost lost your balance and plummeted to the floor when you were putting on your socks, but you managed. 

And now you were moving down down the hall and to the back door.

The hallway was more modern in terms of homing, you supposed. It was similar to that of a regular home, though it lacked any sort of decoration. It seemed as though all sense of decor remained in large-set rooms such as the living space, where it was decorated wall to wall with taxidermied deer heads. That room would never be your favorite; too creepy in its own right. Honestly, you were just focusing on all the wrong things at that moment, otherwise being left to face your worries and fears of the very real danger that Angel Dust may have been in.

You just hoped that Alastor would stick to the promise, and the two of them would end up still existing by the end of the day. But down here in Hell, that was pushing it.

“Al?” You hopped over the small step of the sliding door.

“Yes ma’am?” He turned to you happily, Critter’s head resting on his shoes. “You ready to return to the realm of the dead?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” You offered a small grin before you walked over to the two of them. You leaned down to rest your hand against the alligator’s snout before standing back up. “Are you?” You looked back up to him, curiously.

“No.” He said immediately, before offering a toothy grin. “But with you, I think we’ll be okay.” He wrapped an arm securely around your shoulders. “Critter. Be a good boy.” With that, he snapped his fingers and warped you all into the lobby of the hotel. But of course, the arrival had to be announced with his usual flair.

It was going to take time for you to be completely okay with teleporting around with him, but you could appropriately say that you didn’t feel like you were going to get sick. Thankfully. And as you got your bearings, you were able to admit to yourself that The sight of the lobby felt a bit surreal to you, in all honesty. The circus, eye, apple-themed wallpaper, stained glass windows, the creaky floorboards... The sickeningly fresh scent that you had gone nose-blind to when you had stayed here. 

God, it smelled so much better.

You could have remained still forever, sniffing and wallowing in your relief to be back  _ home.  _

But before anyone could really notice the three of you, a harsh voice gritted out from the vicinity that the bar was in:

_ “The hell do I care about a fuckin’ ‘Royal wedding’?” _


	66. He’s Art, Terrible Art, But Still Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains deliberate provocation and manipulation.

It was all rather disorienting being pulled back into reality after being warped through space and time itself. Like some far off cliff, you felt as if you had been pushed off and plunged into a deep, dark abyss of nothingness, only for your feet to meet the solid planks of the foundation of the hotel. 

You inhaled a great bout of breath before releasing a shaky exhale, your hands instinctively finding a death grip on that red suit jacket that you had come to grow in acquaintance with. Once you found yourself to be stable enough, you let your fists unclench against the fabric, only to appease the situation by flattening it down with your palms. 

Alastor was the type of individual who demanded attention no matter  _ where  _ he went and to think otherwise would be a fool’s mistake. 

His posture was rigid in regards to how relaxed he had been before back at his cabin, you could practically see the lean musculature of his body tense up beneath the article of his clothing. It was all rather intriguing to see, in all honesty. Perhaps it was cruel to point out, though, that there was some sick, twisted curiosity bubbling inside of you on what exactly he would do when he stepped foot into the facility. 

But for the first time in what felt like… well, for the first time, Alastor didn’t immediately suffocate the vicinity with his presence.

Your comprehension of reality, and by extent, your brain still mush from the travel, your attention fell to the alligator that now rested against your shoes. Collectively, the eyes blinked up at you, before a chirrup escaped him. At least he appeared alright. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked up towards the bar in which, of course, Husk reigned supreme in. A sensation of nostalgia hit you full force, in a way that caused your breath to hitch in your lungs - it felt a lot longer than simply a week from being away from them all.

And you hadn’t even realized how much you missed them. 

Husk, however, seemed less than pleased with the arrangement. A clawed paw held his head up, the other settled half-heartedly around a liquor bottle; you could even hear the swish of the feather-tipped tail hitting the base of the counter with a  _ thwump  _ each time it made contact. 

Charlie was currently talking about… something that didn’t register with you until you heard it a second time, your focus primarily on sights and smells of the hotel that you had, without a doubt, dearly missed. In an odd display, the princess had now settled upon her knees atop the counter of the bar, excitedly chattering about something, you cleared your throat.

“Hey, guys.”

All at once, everything seemed to pause before the attention of everyone, and you meant  _ everyone,  _ even Angel Dust who had been sitting on the couch, and Vaggie who had been sitting on a barstool, simultaneously turned to look towards the origin: you. 

A loud gasp.

“You’re back!” Charlie threw herself off of the counter and in a literal millisecond, leaped onto your body where she gripped you tightly in a bone-crushing hug. The air in your lungs? Gone. You hadn’t even had time to prepare! She pulled away, only to hold you by your shoulders, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment.

“We were worried something bad had happened, but after your note came, we knew everything was alright!” She pat your cheek with an absolutely exuberant expression.

“Ya mean  _ you  _ were worried, Chuckles.” Angel snorted before he fell back into a slumped position against the couch. 

With that said, an ear-splitting screech not at all unlike microphone feedback reverberated through the hotel. Instinctively, your hands covered your ears, just as a loud yell resounded from Vaggie. But before she could continue to snap at the origin of the sound… who just so happened to be standing next to you, he cleared his throat, adjusted his bow tie, and the sound shut off. You didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was glaring daggers at the arachnid, all the while you were nervously sweating bullets.

Remember what you said about him not demanding the spotlight? You were taking that back.

“Forgive our thoughtlessness, Charlie!” He bent at the waist to stoop to her level. “We had gotten caught up in personal matters. We found ourselves quite occupied.” His grin stretched as he raised a hand half-way up your back as he returned to his normal position, and brought it down with a force that made you yelp. You jumped forwards a bit before your expression turned sour. Did he just slap your ass!? Ugh! So many different things were happening at the same time that you didn’t know what to focus on first! 

What didn't help the situation was that when he did in fact do the unthinkable, Angel Dust made it a hundred times worse by wolf-whistling.

“Don’t have a dirty mind! It wasn’t like that, Angel!”

It was.

Your face had grown to a shade warmer than it had been prior, dusting against your cheeks and betraying every single word that left your lips. You were beginning to regret coming back. With a loud sigh, you shook your head as Vaggie hopped off the stool and walked over to the three of you. At that point, you outstretched your arms once more to encase Charlie within your grasp. “I missed you guys,” you murmured into the fabric of her shirt.

But of course, if it wasn’t Angel ruining the moment, it was Alastor.

“Oh no,” he laughed. “It wasn’t  _ just _ that! You’re quite right, darling.” You felt his hand smooth over your shoulder before he gently pulled you from Charlie in order to hold you for himself. You never would have thought of him to be the clingy type, but alas, you supposed you had a lot to learn about him still. 

“There was much discussion involved, actually!” Alastor continued. “Embroidery, memories, discussion of maiming Angel, it was all very much needed conversation if I do say so myself.” A nod as you watched him set his gaze on the demon in question for a split second.

From the angle you were at, you weren’t able to see how his physical features had changed (almost as if he was hiding it from you), but from the way that tendrils of shadow and mist seemed to leak out of the floorboards like some low-end haunted house, spreading outwards from the source like a plague, it was then that you noticed that they were headed towards Angel Dust. 

The entire company watched in stunned silence as dark appendages began scraping their way closer to the effeminate spider, and the hollow ghoulish cries of the souls were turning into white noise in the room, low enough that you had to listen for them, but disturbing enough that you knew they were there. 

Critter didn’t even seem phased. In fact, he had his back foot in his mouth and looked particularly pleased with himself.

Angel gave the impression of being wholly unaware of the lingering danger, or otherwise completely uncaring as he threw a grape in the air and caught it in his mouth. There was a  _ click _ , and then the sound of some show surrounded the vicinity and temporarily muted the creeping static that crawled closer with each moment. 

Charlie and Vaggie blinked at Alastor out of your peripheral, and in doing so brought your own attention back on her and not on the… whatever it was. “Right. Uh, so,” She said your name with a nervous smile. “Vaggie and I were about to go pick out some flowers. Do you wanna come?” She wanted to withdraw you immediately from whatever the fuck was happening around you.

“I agree, we have a lot to catch up on.” Vaggie glared at Alastor. He was always making disorder and she wanted to make sure he hadn’t made a complete mess of you, drugged you, fuckin’ put a spell on you or some shit. She still didn’t trust him, but the main reason was that you were close with Charlie; so by using the transitive property, you were close to her. 

She wasn’t going to let some bullshit happen under her roof. “Whaddya say, girl’s day?”

Before you could respond, the shrill voice of Angel made you look at him. Oh, so  _ now  _ he noticed the phantoms clawing down his heeled boots. “Ah, hey— Can I come? This shit sounds fun.” He was a bad liar, particularly because the twinge of his voice practically said ‘save me’.

Without blinking or turning around, Vaggie immediately stated: “No.”

You swallowed the thickness that had built up in your throat at the sight that was forming directly in front of you. Perhaps it was a bad idea to have brought Alastor back with you, in the sense that you were pretty damn sure he wouldn’t be able to control his more animalistic impulses when confronted with a grudge. The thin hairs along your neck had begun to stand on their end as your skin crawled with guilt for knowing what was inevitable. 

“Sure, I’ll come.” You were solely focused on the smoke before you shook your head and blinked out of your reverie. 

“But could you give  _ us-” _ you nudged Alastor with your elbow just enough in hopes to garner his attention, “-a minute, though?” It didn’t really occur to you to ask what the flowers were for despite the reasoning having been delivered only moments ago, faded by your own rocky transportation. 

“Sure!”

“Yeah.”

You flashed a beaming grin towards them as they made their way towards the front door while you rocked on the heels of your shoes for a moment longer.

For a moment, Alastor didn’t look down at you - the intensity of his gaze falling on Angel alone was enough to make  _ you  _ feel uncomfortable, to be quite honest. Then, with a flare, Alastor’s hair flopped side-to-side as he looked down at you and shook his head. “No, no, no, no need to worry about anything. You go enjoy yourself.” 

His hair framed his face almost boyishly as he smiled at you, and in that moment, one of his hands gently wrapped around your face. You leaned into it with a small sigh. 

“You deserve to have some fun with your friends. Besides,” his eyes flashed upwards only briefly, enough for you to tell they were in Angel’s direction. 

_ “I have business to attend to here.” _

His hand on your skin flashed into the one you had seen when he had transformed for a mere minute, the texture telling you that he was struggling particularly to keep himself cool and collected. Did you trust him in general? Sure. But right now? Absolutely fucking not. It would take an absolute idiot to believe that the  _ Radio Demon  _ would let anyone off the hook so easily, despite you having already forgiven Angel Dust for not understanding and of course, potentially ruining your relationship. 

Miraculously, with your determination, Alastor and you had patched up things as well as you could have. 

Time would still do wonders, though. 

“Please,” you leaned up on your tippy-toes, “ _ please  _ be good.” You pulled his attention back to you as you pecked him on the cheek before lowering yourself back to the floor and turning to Charlie and Vaggie. While doing so, you caught the gaze of Husk who had previously been occupied with drinking his life away, as always. His grumpy expression was soured as he looked towards Alastor.

Then again, when was it not?

“Take your tantrum somewhere else. Last time your stupid little…” He scrunched his face into a deeper frown as he pointed a claw towards Alastor, “...  _ Magic show  _ got into my casino, it wrecked the entire foundation.” He slammed the bottle down. “Take your fuckin’ problems outta my bar!” Husk bit out, pointing with the bottle he was drinking out of and splashing Angel (who had gotten up and walked over to said bar) in the process. 

“And  _ you _ .” Husk set his eyes on Angel. “Take your ass with him. I ain’t cleanin’ blood off the bar, and this shit is your fuckin’ fault.” He reached over the bar and shoved Angel off the barstool. Then, as he leaned back and fell into his semi-conscious state of sobriety, he mumbled: “Fuckin’ can’t get a second’s rest in this damn place.”

With that said, Alastor strolled forward and with a particular roughness, grabbed Angel by his minuscule skirt before dragging him away, “Time for a chat, you meddlesome insect.”

“AYE! Hands off the clothes! They were ex pe ns ive! ” 

The sound of Angel’s shrill voice faded as they left the room, and you slowly brought your hand up to rub the back of your neck.

“So... flowers?” You couldn’t hide the shakiness in your voice that betrayed your worry for the arachnid, but it was short-lived when you turned your eyes back to Charlie and Vaggie. 

“Why’re we getting flowers again?”

Charlie sent a grin so large and happy it was essentially spilling sunshine into the room. She turned to Vaggie with it, and you watched as her gaze softened into something you understood rather well. It was a common occurrence between you and Alastor, and you understood the underlying tone before the words were even spoken.

“I asked Vaggie to marry me, and she said yes!” The words that came from her lips were dripping with a warmth that touched your very soul. If you weren’t made up of bones, muscles, and a hundred different other things, you would have melted. You watched as she reached for Vaggie’s hand, who brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking oddly sheepish at the sudden attention. 

“Yeah.” She chuckled out. “Charlie and I are engaged, so we want to pick out the flowers.” She reached her other hand outwards to place it on Charlie’s face, stroking the pale skin with a kindness that simply wasn’t found in Hell. 

She dropped her hand when she remembered that they weren’t alone and turned to you, a more mischievous smile on her face returned. “You’re coming because Charlie has something to ask you and we want details on your week with the troll that just dragged Angel up the stairs.” She kept her hand around Charlie’s comfortably as she spoke:

“So come on! Out to the car.” 

You were absolutely overstimulated. Did she just call Alastor a troll?

Well, she wasn’t wrong. That wasn’t the point, though.

“WAIT!” You spoke a bit louder than you wanted to as they began to turn around towards the door. “Wait, you’re getting married!?” A beaming grin danced across your lips as a laugh tumbled out of your own. “ _ Married!? _ ” 

You were ecstatic, practically vibrating in your own skin from the excitement that you so rarely felt. “Where is it going to be held? Obviously not a church, but maybe not here! You’re a princess, so- OH! Is that what you meant by Royal Wedding? Of course, it would be, oh my  _ gosh!”  _ You scampered over to them to walk side-by-side with Charlie, all the while you chatting their ear off. 

“You gotta tell me how she asked you, Vaggie! You  _ gotta.” _

“That can wait,” the one-eyed demon replied. 

“Yeah, we want to know how your week with Alastor went. And I didn’t miss how he uh, smacked your ass.” Charlie let out a giggle as she settled into the driver’s seat. 

“He did that to me once. I swear I never wanted to commit murder so much in my life.” Vaggie huffed, and Charlie tossed her a grin. Oh yes, that day had been… something.

“So come on now, get in, we’ve got so much to talk about!” Charlie slipped into the car and put the key into the ignition. The car rumbled a bit as it started up, and while doing that, Vaggie got in beside her. Instantly, their hands were back together as if they had never been apart in the first place. 

Vaggie turned around half-way into her seat as you settled into your own. “Yeah, so what happened?” She wiggled her brows in a highly suggestive manner with a smug grin on her face. 

You froze at the question. You slowed your roll until a light click resounded from the buckle pulled you from your immediate shock. 

Of course, they would immediately want to know the details. 

“Yeah. It was rocky in the beginning, but we managed to patch things back up. We’re still learning, though. Heh.” You shrugged your shoulders. It was what it was. “I made him promise not to maim Angel, but he’s…”  _ Alastor. “ _ We should probably head back after getting the flowers. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t trust him with Angel Dust right now.” 

Your attention fell to the side window then. 

“Pfft, I wouldn’t worry about it. If we lose Angel, then we lose him.” Vaggie brushed off your comment.

“Vaggie… he’s getting better.” Came Charlie’s softer voice.

“Yeah, well, he needs to stop hiding drugs in his room. I know it’s a slow process, but it still feels like he’s mooching.” Vaggie rolled her neck. “Anyway, what else did you guys do? What’s his weird cabin like?” There wasn’t a lot of information out there about how Alastor lived, only that he was dangerous. 

You stared out into the expanse of houses and demons zooming past you. But your attention had fallen onto something a bit more chilling - the clock tower. It had a countdown that you hadn’t thought of, but with each passing day, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry. 

It wasn’t for a while.

It would be fine. You would be fine.

“Sorry,” you snapped out of it. “It’s in the middle of the swamp. It’s not that far from the hotel, actually. On the outside it looks like a normal cabin, I guess. But on the inside, there’s this whole room dedicated to his collection of taxidermied deer heads! It’s pretty creepy, but it’s… very him, is all I can say. He also has a library inside, too. There’s also, well,” was talking about the secret room off-limits? Eh.

“There’s this room that he has. It smells like death and decay, honestly, I feel like the hairs in my nostrils were burnt off. Anyways, there’s this autopsy table in the center of the room, and on each side, there are these shelves lined with jars of organs of different demons. It sounds gross, but it’s kinda cool since they’re preserved in this liquid that keeps them fresh but the eyes still follow you. You know-” You cut yourself off at the expression on their faces.

“Sorry.” You had gotten carried away.

“Ugh, my dad’s torture room doesn’t have jars. He keeps his in these weird decorative crystal vases.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “And mom keeps hers in ceramic jars… she paints them. They’re all really pretty. I opened one up when I was little and I only found three eyes staring back at me.” Charlie shrugged her shoulders while Vaggie’s eyes glanced back and forth between the two of you. 

“Whatever, that’s fucked up.”

“But not the worst thing, right? This is Hell, Vags.” Charlie reached out to her hand again. Vaggie grabbed it and turned back around in her seat. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So, how did Charlie propose?” You piped up after a moment. Your attention had fallen towards the passing buildings, to the transition of colors that you had nearly forgotten from the seasons prior. Spring was approaching if they even… had Spring down here.

You were just glad that you didn’t really even need a coat anymore, except for during the nights. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be out that long. Already, you were itching to get back and make sure everything was alright. Nevertheless, it was a girl’s day so you were going to kick back and relax. You weren’t sure the last time you had even seen a bouquet of flowers, much less ones more suited for a wedding.

This area though of Hell seemed a lot fancier than others. 

Vaggie let out a dreamy sigh. Even the thought of it sent a rush of warmth through her. Even though her cheeks darkened, she smiled happily at Charlie. “Charlie had gone to talk to her parents and uh… Lilith gave her a ring to propose to me. And you know Charlie,” She turned to you briefly with a light laugh. 

“Charlie led me up to the roof of the hotel where she had this beautiful picnic set up… with these little lights floating around that looked just like fireflies. She had packed the basket with a bunch of our favorites- and even tried to handmake some pupusas. She did pretty well actually!” With a laugh, she lifted her hand and showed off a lovely ring with a large apple red diamond surrounded by white ones. “We talked about the hotel, our future, and… next thing I knew she was on one knee! She looked like she was going to cry!”

Charlie was beaming at her. “I was so nervous! I thought you were going to say no.”

Vaggie laughed outright. “Why would I ever say no? You’re perfect.” They both smiled sweetly at each other. “But yeah, so we spent the night together, celebrating our engagement. It was wonderful.” 

You were absolutely radiant with your smile, your eyebrows knitted in harmony with your expression. They were so fucking cute. No one deserved a better engagement than the two of them, and you found yourself at sudden ease with how the day was turning out to be. 

“Congratulations!” You sang, poking your head through the center of the two seats to peer at them both excitedly.

“I’m so happy for the two of you, you have no idea.” And you were. You were a happy little bean. “So, where are you having the wedding, do you think? Any plans? What’s the theme?” You had always been creative, and you wanted to stress that in this moment. 

“Well, first thing’s first. I was wondering if maybe,  _ and you don’t have to say yes _ , I mean I  _ want _ you to say yes, but you really don’t have to because I know it can be a lot of work and I-” Vaggie squeezed Charlie’s hand and swiped her thumb calmly over her knuckles. “Right, anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to be a bridesmaid?” Charlie shyly asked you, her eyes settled on yours as she turned from the road. Despite that, she kept looking at you in the rearview mirror. 

“We both were kind of hoping you would be.” Vaggie added. 

“Yes! Absolutely!” You had been a bit shocked at first, but now that it was fading away, you found your excitement growing in double. “A bridesmaid, though? Are you sure you want me? I mean, it’s a Royal Wedding! It’s… going to be full of important demons and,” well, you weren’t all that important when it came to politics. Except, of course, being the Radio Demon’s lover. You supposed that had its perks. But besides that? You were practically a nobody. 

“Well, yeah, it may be a Royal Wedding, but you’re the only friend we both have who is actually our friend because you like us. And we like you. Well, we love you, and even Dad told me that you had better be a bridesmaid. He likes you too, and that’s saying something. Sometimes I don’t even think he likes  _ me.  _ You’re a breath of fresh air down here. You’re not out to get anyone, and you just wanna live your life. We’re gonna need that while dealing with the other members of the bridal party.” Charlie’s face soured suddenly at the thought of the people that she was going to have to ask to be a part of her special day. Hell wasn’t full of people like you, Hell was full of assholes. 

Like the damn Eldritch family. Her nose crinkled. “Anyway, we all want you there. And of course that means Alastor too.” She sent a wink your way. 

“I’d love to,” you sniffled pathetically. 

You had always been emotional when talking about certain subjects and guess what? This was one of them apparently! “I won’t let you down, I promise.” So you were going to be a bridesmaid for Charlie and Vaggie’s wedding, and you had no idea where to start. You supposed you would ask when you got back to the hotel since you were pretty damn sure you wanted to stuff your face full of floral scents. You were ecstatic though, and you were certain that your focus would be fucked up from that. 

Speaking of flowers.

You all had just driven up to the most beautiful fucking place in Hell you had ever seen. You were sure even during your other life, you had never laid eyes on a place that was so lusciously gorgeous. Even the parking lot was lavishly decorated with white carven columns! The tops of which were overflowing with sparkling, crystalline vines that trailed onto the perfectly poured cement. There was an archway of wisteria that was growing over pergolas that lead up to a giant glass greenhouse, and even from here, it looked like there was a patch of sky inside, in the clearest blue you had seen down here. 

Blue very rarely existed in such a red environment. 

Every color of the rainbow was beckoning for you to enter this Eden and simply bask in the type of life you hadn’t been able to remember. And that was all it took for you to nearly jump out of the car once it pulled to a stop. Twisting around to unbuckle your seatbelt, you found that your excitement was nearly insurmountable; mostly from the fact that Charlie and Vaggie had asked you to be their  _ bridesmaid  _ than the actual flowers, but you were excited for them too! It was all rather breathtaking that, when you got out of the car and found yourself awaiting further instructions, you were at a loss on where exactly to go first. 

The normal stench of Hell was often something less than appealing, so the floral scent that met you immediately made you desire to stick your nose in each and every flower there was.

It was so very different from your usual store. A giant greenhouse made of glass that you were positive was enchanted. Some of the flowers even seemed to be so. Their scents were rich and mingling in a way that could have been considered overwhelming, but rather than that, it simply smelled heavenly. There was an abundance of life in this store, this place, whatever you chose to call it. It was far more Earth-like, or so you supposed considering you couldn’t actually remember the finer details other than ‘green’ and ‘blue’, but it was grander in every way. 

It’s what you imagined Heaven to look like.

Some of the flowers seemed to be hybrids of something you would find in space and others were more like those vines you had seen pulling up. They grew out of the soil like crystals, and when the light hit them, gorgeous prismatic colors flashed across the clear walls. There were roses that looked like they came out of a book, completely made of glass. You noticed distantly that there was a soft spray coming from the ceiling and as it hit against those transparent petals, they trembled softly. Whatever this place was, there was magic and life brimming in every corner.

You were positive this was the ‘nice’ side of town, too. You highly doubted a place like this would spring up anywhere close to the IMP headquarters. You wondered how they were doing after Alastor had interacted with them. Oof. Nevertheless, this just  _ had _ to be the nicer part of Hell. It made you briefly wonder what other types of magical places the high life had down here. No wonder Lucifer had been able to throw a party on the drop of a hat for the stock market crash. 

Or so he claimed.

But what really nailed itself home to you in this moment, was that Charlie really was a princess, and this really was going to be a  _ Royal Wedding _ . 

You had to slow down. This wasn’t for you, this was for the newly engaged couple that you had agreed to accompany. Still, though, you could hide your giddiness. The word ‘pretty’ didn’t exist as commonly as it did on Earth, and when you saw something that could be described as such, you were often more than happy to indulge in whatever it may offer. 

As the three of you walked towards the front door, which was also made out of crystal-clear glass, you stepped ahead and grabbed the handle, offering your company the ease of access. A friendly chime of a bell alerted whoever was manning the desk. It was cool inside, a comfortable temperature that kept the flowers fresh. 

“Wow...” You said that a lot, didn’t you? 

Well, you couldn’t help it! It was all rather breathtaking now that you could _almost_ touch the flowers although... something compelled you to keep your hands to yourself. You couldn’t explain it. “Ohh, look at these…” You breathed out softly at an equally blue bouquet of flowers as the enchanted sky had seemed to be in the greenhouse. A small wooden post read ‘_Hydrangea_’ in front of it, and you were proud to come to terms with the fact that blue was quickly becoming your favorite color. It was such a rarity down here! 

“And these!” ‘ _ Bleeding Hearts _ ’, it read. These ones were particularly calling to you, the bulbs curved and delicate. You noticed rather quickly that a lot of the flowers were sorted through colors, each species given their own spot to prosper and grow to their stem’s content. 

“All the flowers here are really pretty, huh?” Charlie stepped closer to you and looked over the greenhouse with soft wonder in her eyes. “This used to be one of my favorite spots as a child, but all of Rosie’s shops are pretty grandiose. This place has gotten a lot of attention in the last 80 years.” She bumped her shoulder into you with a smile. 

Vaggie quickly joined you both and looked over the otherworldly beauty that bloomed throughout this glass container. “Charlie’s taken me here a few times and uh, I can remember how I reacted when I first saw everything.” A vivid memory of her screaming as she started running through the place unabandoned while stuffing her face into every flower she could see flashed across her mind. 

“I took it very well.”

Charlie let out a snort. “You had a lot of fun, you mean.”

“Oh fuck yeah, until one of these flowers bit my nose” Vaggie’s arm wrapped loosely around her fiance’s waist as Charlie laughed.

“So, how do weddings work? I mean uh, the theme? Or do you just pick a color and go with it?”

“I mean, um.” Charlie looked to Vaggie for an answer because they hadn’t really thought about a theme that much. They had been hoping the flowers would inspire something.

“White, we want white, remember Charlie? And red.” Vaggie gave her a look that appeared to soothe the anxiety, and Charlie nodded as she let out a deep breath. 

“Yeah, white and red. Maybe a few hints of glitter and black in between.” She let out a giggle.

Just as you were about to say something, you were cut off by an approaching demon.

A pale faced, purple-haired girl peered out from behind the plants, coming out to the front with a pot in her ink black arms. Upon seeing Charlie, she set the pot down on the counter to give the princess a deep curtsy. The movement threw you off, the way she gracefully slid to a knee with her arms out wide- how was she doing that with her foot so flat?! You felt yourself try to turn your own foot out to see if you could get that same angle. It looked almost familiar- like a dance move to you, but you couldn’t remember what kind. Like something those little figures in music boxes would do. The ones with the pointy feet. As she rose, her eyes fell to the three of you as she began moving her fingers, already seeming well acquainted with the blonde.

“Lilac! It’s so great to see you again! Um, well, you see, we need your help picking out a lot of flowers because…” Charlie bounced around Vaggie for a moment, encircling her arms around the moth demon completely. “We’re getting married!” She singsonged. 

Lilac’s eyes widened a touch and she offered the princess a smile, clapping her hands for the happy couple. Her gaze shifted to Vaggie and she once again moved her hands, seeming to be congratulating the pair on their engagement. She then faced you with a curious look, pointing at you while motioning again. And as you watched her move, you realized that you had zero fucking idea what she was doing with her hands. It looked too intentional to be from a bout of excitement. 

“Oh! Thank you so much, we’re both really excited about it! And this!” Charlie tugged you forward to introduce you by name. The purple demon’s eyes looked like they reacted in recognition to your name, but it was too quick for you to really pick up on. 

“She’s one of our dear friends and bridesmaids! So we figured she could help with the wedding and stuff.” Charlie was always so light-hearted. 

You let out a nervous laugh as you were pushed forward. “Hi,” you greeted, before sticking out your hand in a way that you had seen Alastor do on multiple occasions. But how could you communicate with someone if you didn’t know what they were saying? How embarrassing. 

But it didn’t work, because all Lilac did was stare at your extended hand, before she signed something once more at Charlie. You felt the corners of your lips twitch downwards as you slowly retracted your hand and placed it to your side once more as she turned around on the tip of her toe and headed towards the entrance of the greenhouse. 

While the florist motioned for the three of you to follow her, Charlie acknowledged the apparent dilemma that was now written on your face.

“Oh. Lilac is under a... special arrangement. Don’t worry about it.” You felt her hand on your shoulder. “She knows not a lot of people sign. Vaggie can’t understand her super well either! Let’s follow her and she’ll get us all set up and we can talk more about the wedding.”

You nodded silently, already feeling all sorts out of place. You didn’t have a lot of experience with interaction outside of your circle, and you had to remind yourself that not everyone was as friendly as Charlie was. Said woman made you feel a bit better though, thankfully, as she chatted away and led you and Vaggie after Lilac. Very quickly it became obvious that Charlie thought highly of her. 

“Lilac is a master with flowers! Her gift is growing different species and look at what she’s been able to do!” Charlie grandly spun around with her arms wide open. “Rosie has had her run this place for a while now and it’s so pretty.”

You still weren’t sure who ‘Rosie’ was, but you were more focused on making sure you would be able to understand the conversation taking place. “Is it okay if you translate for me Charlie? I don’t think I can understand her any other way…” Anxiously, you rubbed the back of your neck with your hand.

“Of course I can!” She chirped. “I have to for Vaggie anyways.” She leaned down to your ear then and lowered her voice: “And don’t worry- Lilac’s just hard to read, she’s always been super nice to me! Just don’t touch any of the flowers and she’ll be polite!” 

You admired how optimistic Charlie constantly was, truthfully. You didn’t agree with her calling you a breath of fresh air - that title belonged to her. She was a ray of sunshine, and that was something that Hell didn’t see too often. You were like… an overcast sky. Oh, you were lagging behind. When you looked up, you saw that Lilac held your gaze for a moment from over her shoulder. It occurred to you at that moment that she probably heard everything you had just said. Ah. An uncomfortable twinge in your gut signified your embarrassment. She still held that smile as she turned her attention back to the brides. 

Her fingers moved with an expertise that you couldn’t dream of mastering as she communicated with the princess. Slowly, you allowed your attention to fall to the greenhouse and the flowers that inhabited it. It wasn’t that you were introverted to the point of being  _ shy,  _ you just didn’t… really meet demons all that often. The majority of your existence down here consisted of those that you saw daily, save for a few. Maybe you were just naturally awkward.

Which was fine. You didn’t mind that much. In fact, you were rather content with being with those that you knew.

You supposed, though, that now that you were a bridesmaid, you would be meeting a whole lot of people that were of higher status in the political sense. Apparently, you had found while snooping through the hotel, that there were high-born families aside from the one that was, admittedly, the most famous. You needed to shake off the heebie-jeebies if you were going to make it out of the wedding to see another day. A brisk sigh escaped you.

Quickly, you closed the difference and leaned up to Charlie’s ear when you were able to. “Hey, before we leave today, do you mind if we take a look around? After we’re done setting up for your wedding of course.” Would he even like flowers? Whatever. You found them pretty and you wanted to take all of them home  _ immediately _ . 

Charlie’s eyes flicked down to you. “Oh! Yeah! Just make sure you listen to Lilac. These flowers are really special and can be  _ kinda _ fragile.” She softly told you. 

In the center of the greenhouse sat a lovely little set up for consultations such as these, and as you nodded lightly while the three of you got sat, Lilac reappeared with a tray of fresh tea, setting it down for you. After another swift glance in your direction, she offered a polite smile and took a seat across from Vaggie. Her posture was nothing short of perfect, and with a few hand gestures to Charlie, she settled her hands back in her lap. You couldn’t help but feel a bit selfconscious of your own posture, pulling your shoulders back to sit up straighter as well.

“Oh, we want something a little different than most weddings down here. Not a lot of demons choose white, but-” Charlie leaned happily into Vaggie’s side. “-we like the thought of a white wedding with black and red accents.” Her eyes glanced around and landed on the crystal-like flowers. “And maybe a few of your more exotic ones. The crystal flowers are always so pretty!” 

As you remained quiet and allowed Charlie and Vaggie to start off the conversation in regards to colors and themes, you found yourself enjoying the floral scents that wafted through the air. There were a lot of different species of plants, some gorgeous, some physically moving around it their pots with what you could only assume were  _ teeth _ , and others that looked almost mystical in appearance. They were all unique in their own right, and you were pleasantly impressed.

As you turned your attention back to the chatter, you repositioned yourself to lose yourself in the details. You wanted to know everything, honestly. You were going to take this as seriously as you could- it was the wedding of your two friends, and in some ways, you considered them to be your family. It warmed you to know that celebrations other than simple ones like the New Years Party or Grand Openings could be appreciated down here. You weren’t sure if you had ever been to a wedding in your past life, but you were pretty tuned into what they were like, for some reason. It was a sense of familiarity, but not important enough to spark any sort of memory. 

Oh well.

Vaggie turned back to Lilac. “So... we’re going traditional surface type wedding with splashes of hell. We haven’t decided yet if we’re both going to wear dresses or if Charlie wants to wear a suit.” The moth demon failed at covering the blush that scorched her face.

“Yeah, so what kind of flowers do you suggest, and um, maybe a venue too? Mom and Dad wanna have it on the estate, but we’re still talking through that. I know there would be plenty of space, but it’s also kinda cliche to have it at my parents.” Charlie scratched her shoulder at the mention. She realized she was in a special position in hell to begin with. And now a Royal Wedding. It was a bit much, but she loved Vaggie more than words could say and she wanted them both to have a day to remember for eternity. 

Lilac had her attention on the princess, and you found yourself observing that she seemed truly grateful to have her company; you couldn’t help but wonder how many people actually spoke with their hands down here. This was the first you had encountered it after all. The purple demon seemed quite friendly with Charlie, and knowing she would be able to assist in the pair’s wedding must have pleased her. Moving her hands, she directed her eyes and motions at Charlie, although she knew the moth demon at her side had started picking up on some signs. 

Charlie spoke aloud as her hands moved: “She said she can shop around for a few venues for us, it really depends on our guest list size. She knows of a few places that can be dolled up quite nicely.” Lilac looked around the area as she thought to herself, bringing her blackened hand to her pale face. After a moment of contemplation, she stood up and made her way over to some white flowers nearby, her gardening shears slicing a few blossoms to bring over. 

“She thinks red and white are lovely wedding colors- aw thank you! Oh, but black is unorthodox, though she still has a few options… how about these, Vaggie? White primrose and moonflowers for accents. They should be quite pleasant.” Lilac set the flowers in the pair’s hands and her own motioned again. “So, we’ll pick a main flower and then Lilac can base the rest around that, most of these flowers speak a language all their own… What would we like our wedding to say about our love?” 

Charlie’s pitch had heightened all through her translations, and she squealed as the blooms were placed in both her and her fiance’s hands. “Lilac, these are gorgeous!” She looked to Vaggie excitedly, and then to you.

“They’re perfect.” She nodded to the violet haired demon with a soft smile.

“They’re beautiful..” You didn’t add much to the conversation, as you weren’t entirely sure what to say, but you did pipe in the compliment. You were truthful, as well. The petals  _ were  _ beautiful. This entire place was pretty, to be honest. You almost felt overwhelmed.

“And as for love…” Charlie brought her thumb and forefinger to rub her chin. “I know I want our wedding to say ‘pure’, as silly and not Hellish as it is. Vaggie and I, well, I love her purely and selflessly, and I want our wedding to say that!” Vaggie’s blush intensified at Charlie’s words and she could barely restrain her grin. 

“I like that too, and I want there to be passion, a pure and passionate kind of love.” Vaggie settled her hand over Charlie’s knee and squeezed. She was filled with such joy, it felt overwhelming. She wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

“And. Everlasting.” Charlie said seriously, looking at her lover’s pale eyes. “Because we both know what we’re trying to do with the hotel…” In a rare moment of seriousness, Charlie’s features hardened. 

You stiffened, and turned your attention onto the two, placing your hands in your lap as they slid off the table. This was news to you. Before Charlie could even begin speaking, your mind was already racing. How selfless of her to offer Vaggie an eternity of peace, or at least, as it what was portrayed. You couldn’t imagine not being physically with Alastor, even though your relationship was more than that. It always would be, too. 

You opened your mouth to say something, before you decided to close it and let them work it out. It wasn’t your place to discuss this sudden concern with them now. 

Her eyes were intense as she looked at the love of her life. “If you ascend, I want you to know you will be my one and only. Vagatha,  _ I will love you eternally _ . But I know you deserve a better life than one spent in Hell.” Charlie’s grip on Vaggie was strong, unyielding, but filled with hope.

Vaggie had tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Why would I want to go anywhere you can’t follow?” 

Charlie shook her head out of the seriousness it had been in. “Just in case. I want everyone to know, no matter what happens, my love for you will be as it always has been, forever and unending.” She cupped Vaggie’s cheek, stroking the soft grey skin there. “No matter what happens.”

Vaggie nodded with a teary smile, turning her face to kiss the palm of her lover’s hand. “No matter what happens,” she murmured into Charlie’s skin. 

You caught a motion, drawing your attention from the pair and back to the floral demon. If Lilac could make a gagging sound, she looked like she would have. She tapped twice to bring their attention back as well, making an exaggerated expression to show how cheesy she thought the two were being, but she then smiled again and her shoulders shook with a silent laugh.

The two were so in love, and clearly perfect for each other. It was enviable. 

You looked over to Lilac then and released a laugh. “You can’t tell me that they’re not cute!” You finally piped up. Actually, she couldn’t. Because she couldn’t speak... maybe not the best choice of words. You felt like you kept embarrassing yourself in front of this new person. But before that feeling could solidify in your gut, you found yourself focused on her wrists.

While the two were talking, the flower demon’s wrists lit up with red and white lilies, and she began to arrange them slightly with the primrose and moonflowers. 

“She said these lilies mean passion, purity, and love. And if we like how these look she can start building a bouquet around them and our wonderful, yet cliche theme- Hey! It’s not that bad is it?” Charlie giggled. “Okay, so the table decorations can mostly feature the primrose and moonflowers. How would I feel about some apple blossoms...? Oh!”

Charlie’s eyes widened considerably, as did her smile. “That’s amazing! Perfect! Lilac, that all sounds great. And I think my parents and, uh, even me, well, apple blossoms sound beautiful. Thank you so much, we couldn’t have done any of this without you!”

Lilac made an awkward expression at the praise, waving it away as it was not needed. She brought a dark finger to her lips as she thought to herself, before nodding at Charlie.

“Aw, you’re welcome! Thank you for all the help! Okay, so she’ll start working on some arrangements and styles and have a friend of hers deliver them to us at the hotel, we can take our time to look them all over and just send her a note on which we’d like to proceed with. Now, let's talk about pricing…” 

Charlie cut her own translation off and pulled out that fancy golden Magne family card. “You just have fun. You know us and our theme. Just put it on file and send me the bill for approval.” Charlie winked as she slid the card over the table to the flower demon. 

There was a moment of added silence as you finally pushed out your seat once the main plans had been finalized. “Ah, Lilac, I know you’re busy but I was wondering if after you’re finished, you could help me find something to bring back home as a gift for Alastor. It doesn’t have to be any extravagant, if-“ 

Lilac’s eyes snapped back over to you when you requested something of her, her mood hard to read with that small smile still on her face. But the stare down was quickly making you uncomfortable as she waited for you to continue- or was she glaring you down to shut up? You couldn’t really tell.

“Um, nevermind. Sorry.” You felt awkward interacting with individuals that weren’t in your ‘circle’ and naturally, you were pretty easy to intimidate, even with all the pretty flowers around. Plus it occurred to you that you had left your money back at the hotel anyway. Rubbing the back of your neck, you looked back over to Charlie and Vaggie. 

They already did enough for you, so you wouldn’t dream of asking them to pay for this too. This was their day, after all. “So white and red are good colors.” You joked lightly. “I like the theme. I’m really glad you guys are happy! I’m so happy for you, you have no idea. I don’t really think I can show it all right now since I’m still processing it, but just know,” you leaned over and wrapped an arm individually across both of their shoulders and leaned in for a hug, “I’m really happy for you two.” 

You grinned up to the purple demon then, forcing yourself to forget about the flowers you had wanted previously and your nerves around a new face. Nevertheless, you were particularly fond of imagining how the wedding could even go! What color were the dresses? What kind of food would there be? Who would all be there? It was all rather exciting and you were nearly bursting at the seams.

“Will you be there?” You inquired towards Lilac. You didn’t really understand how invitations worked at this point. You were working on it, okay? Amnesia sucked, and every single party you had been to had been an open house.

Lilac’s expression seemed to relax when your attention returned to the happy brides. Her yellowed eyes closed for a moment and then she faced Charlie, moving her hands before standing up. 

“She said she’s sure you’ll see her running around and making sure everything is going smoothly- hey, you better take some time to enjoy the wedding yourself!” Charlie laughed, making the girl shrug lightly. “Oh, she said she’ll meet us at the front- she has to go check on something.”

With that same polite dance-like curtsy from before, Lilac vanished for a moment. She reappeared once you three got to the counter to ring up Charlie’s order and put her card on file. She looked you over again and seemed to make a quiet decision to herself, as she turned to Charlie and signed something, before producing a small bouquet of magnolia blossoms. After setting them in Charlie’s arms and returning the card, she folded her hands back in front of her.

Charlie smiled kindly at Lilac with a nod before settling the flowers into your arms. “Alastor will like these.” She explained softly. 

You blinked down at the white and pink flowers that now were in your possession. “Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to, but thank you.” That was… actually really nice of her. You were now extra excited because now you could give them to Alastor.

… Alastor.

Oh, shit! Alastor and Angel! You stiffened immediately, your eyes widening a fraction before you leaned over to Vaggie who just so happened to be closest to you. “Uh, we should get going, I don’t want to rush you guys. If you wanted to stay, I can  _ probably  _ find a ride somewhere else, but I need to make sure they don’t burn the hotel down.” 

“Right! Sorry to cut this short, but we’ll see you later, Lilac. And thanks again for all your help.” Charlie waved before turning around and ushering you all out of the greenhouse.

“They better not have ruined my hotel, we just started getting more guests!”

Back at the hotel, Alastor gripped the flimsy fabric in his hands tighter as he dragged the pathetic excuse of a demon up the stairs. Static suffocated what air there was, blinding and choking what it could. A laugh escaped him, lips twitching in what appeared to be  _ excitement  _ for what was to come.

“Oh, come now, Angel, don’t be shy! I know you love having chats. I’m simply dying to hear what you told my darling  _ girl! _ ” He pushed the arachnid forward, and in doing so crashed Angel’s skull into one of the stairs with a loud slam. He said he wouldn’t kill Angel, but the rest of the area that he was allowed to bend and use to his advantage? 

Limitless.

“Fuckin’  _ ow!”  _ Angel yelped when bumped into the stairs, rubbing the back of his head with one of his extra arms, scrambling with his long legs to make the drag less miserable. “Watch the hair, Smiles! I just got it done a couple of days ago! What the fuck are you so pissy about, huh?” 

Alastor leered down at him. “Such colorful language!” He leaned back with a single note of laughter that held no amusement whatsoever. “So idiotic as well, it’s a shame really. Anyway, about your hair, so terribly sorry, I’m going to redo it for you. You see, you and I are going on a trip.” Alastor tapped his microphone onto the wood twice, sending them both whirling into the expanding black void within without any time for Angel Dust to really realize what was going on. 

The thing with Alastor was that he was always so quick in his movements, and if one’s attention wasn’t on him constantly, it would be easy to miss something important.

This little pocket dimension should assure them both privacy. Alastor tossed him into the darkness, a bright red spotlight lighting the nothingness in Angel’s immediate vicinity. “Welcome to my humble abode!” The man spun around with his arms out to his sides in a grand show of showing off said ‘abode’. There was nothing humble about it. 

Muffled cries met his ears, sending them twitching this way and that. Alastor glanced to the side, only to fall upon the husked carcasses of… “Oh, I see we still have guests.” Another spotlight lit up Kyle and Damon, who now looked like they had been nothing short of absolutely massacred. 

Large chunks had been ripped out of their major muscle groups, Damon now only had sockets where his eyes once were, and all speech from Kyle was lost as a soft hollow sound continuously thrummed out of his mouth like a busted record player. And yet despite it all, Alastor looked right at home. 

“Ah yes, don’t mind them. I want a chat.” With the wave of his hand, two chairs and a small table fit with coffee appeared before the tortured pair. “Have a seat.”

Angel would be lying if he said the sight didn’t unnerve him. They looked rough, and he wasn’t about to be in the same boat. But he had seen some shit, and while this might have been one of the worst, he was numb to a lot of the experiences. 

With a shrug, the spider demon walked haughtily over to the table, folding one leg over the other while leaning back in his chair. Boredly, he busied himself with looking around the void dimension, barely paying any attention to the elephant in the room who was now glaring daggers at him.

If looks could kill, Alastor would have broken the promise a long,  _ long  _ time ago. 

“So, nice place ya got here, who’s your interior decorator- the blind guy?” Angel snorted. 

“No, the blind man is simply the  _ decoration _ . I’ve yet to collect enough to fill the room.” Alastor tapped his forefinger on the seat, a row of those same red spotlights flooding the space. Demons, humans, souls, all were strung up and in some state of disarray or otherwise completely drained of life. “I come here to relax,” he explained coolly. “Rarely do I have guests that leave.” Alastor picked up his drink and took a long sip before holding the cup to his chest. 

Angel’s eyes surveyed the room, and he looked decidedly unimpressed. “Tacky.” 

He leaned back in his chair further, hiking his boots up on the table as one of his arm sets folded behind his head and the others across his chest. “So whatcha tryin’ to bring me here for huh? Ya got a bone to pick I’m guessin’.” 

“You are correct in your assumption.” Alastor’s gaze narrowed on the shoes that were on his table, before, with a wave of his hand, manifested an illusion of the microphone they currently inhabited just to kick the boots off of the surface. 

“You know, I find it incredibly strange that you felt the need to tell a complete stranger your sob story.” He sneered. “As if your story and hers had anything in common! While you’re a  _ whore _ , a very talented one I’ve heard, she has little experience in those matters. Have you suddenly developed a heart,  _ Anthony? _ ” Alastor crossed his legs at the knee before leaning completely back into his seat.

“First off, ew. Don’t fuckin’ call me that. It’s  _ Angel Dust _ . Got it?” Angel sat up, pointing in an indignant manner. “Second of all, look.” He sighed. ”I’ll admit it wasn’t my business to get involved but I told her what I was seein’ and let her make her own decision. Don’t ya get pissy with me over it.” Angel rolled his eyes, bringing a nail up to pick between his teeth. 

“I hadn’t realized you being a mooch in the hotel entitled you to offering advice to weary souls. What else is under your nondescript job description?” Alastor’s neck cracked loudly as it snapped in an unnatural position. “Perhaps I should give Valentino a call… wrap you up as a present and drop you at his door since he’s constantly leaving ones on ours.” 

His pupils narrowed into pinpricks as he eyed the spider in his web. “Don’t you miss the studio, Anthony? Strangers fawning over you, ripping into you, fucking you, everyone handing you drugs, shooting you up? Uppers, downers, well I’m sure they had you on everything just so they could put their hands on you! Ha!” He let out a cruel laugh. 

_ “Don’t you miss it?” _

Alastor was well aware that Angel was cut from a more sexual cloth than he had been, still. There had to be some grain of truth in his words. Porn studios down here, particularly Valentino’s, were not the most kind. Drugs were used as incentives and useful tools to get people to do what Valentino needed them to do. Alastor was positive Angel had some scars, ones that bubbled under his skin from his time there. He just needed to find the right one to rip open. Then, and only then, would he find his peace.

Angel looked visibly uncomfortable. He scowled at the radio host. “I don’t think Charlie would be too happy if ya tossed me at Val. ‘Sides, I’ve got other friends to shack up with if I need to.” He crossed his arms. “This hotel’s great for the free… ah,  _ everything _ but it’s not the only place I’ve got. So keep yer threats to yourself, Smiles. Ya can’t shake me down.” He snorted. Angel grew up in the mafia, after all, thinking back to the shakedowns he and his family used to do. 

Compared to that? Alastor’s threats were pretty lackluster. 

“How funny.” Alastor smiled, his sharpened teeth fully on display. “I don’t see Charlie here.” As he spoke, long strands of smoke, solid and cold, wrapped around Angel’s seat. Before he could even react, it bound him to the chair. Two opaque strands ripped into Angel’s side, just to ensure that his extra set of arms were pinned down and unable to be of use. Those black ropes that wavered between something from a fever dream and reality tightened until Alastor deemed Angel safely locked down. 

“Do you see her anywhere? Besides… You’re more of a hindrance to the hotel anyway.” He tutted as he stood up. “Cherri Bomb, isn’t it? Your friends? Oh right, right.” Alastor hummed humorlessly. “You don’t have any of those.” Slowly, like a predator stalking unsuspecting prey, Alastor crept behind Angel. “Or family really! Even Molly. Tsk, tsk.” He flicked the demon on his head, and honestly, it was with enough force to give him a concussion. 

Angel, however, didn’t seem to give a shit. In fact, he was preoccupied with grinning cheekily at the Radio Demon (who just so happened to be  _ this  _ close to losing his temper). “ _ Ooh, _ is this what we’re doing? I can get behind a degradation kink. What's your safe word,  _ daddy? _ ” Angel wiggled lightly. He was well aware that Alastor wasn’t a fan of sexual jokes or flirting, but if he was going to try to make Angel feel bad, it was only natural to return the favor.

Alastor stared at Angel Dust blankly. “You’re such a predictable thing.” He stated bluntly. “You know, perhaps I should give you to Henroin.” Alastor tapped his chin, his eyes slipping to the demons and victims he had strung up. It was such a shame he made you that promise not to kill him… But he didn’t promise that he couldn’t keep Angel here for a while. 

“Let’s see what  _ daddy _ has to say to you, Anthony. I’m sure he has something up his sleeves for you! I mean with how often you call me father, I should think you’re really just crying out for your own.” Alastor settled a hand onto Angel’s shoulder, sinking his nails into the flesh beneath what was once a pristine coat of alabaster. 

But it was prettier now that it was stained vermilion.

“Or perhaps a little reunion should be arranged. Valentino and your father… I believe the two are friends you know!” Alastor sang. 

Angel let out a bark of laughter.

“Ha! As if I’m scared of my old man. You’d be doin’ me a favor, giving me the chance to sock both my pops and Val right in their kissers.” Angel tossed his head, flipping his hair back. “You can threaten me all you want, but I know when someone’s hands are tied. You’da killed me by now  _ if _ ya could- guessin’ that fishy broad made ya promise not to right? Or something cliche like that.” Angel made a gag, but let his face split in a toothy grin of his own. Maybe he should thank Henroin later for teaching him how to handle threats after he punched his lights out of course. 

“Sadly, you assume correctly. That doesn’t mean I have promised to keep Molly safe though. I can gladly summon her here, and mutilate her in front of you, piece by piece. Or perhaps you’re still too heartless even about your own twin.  _ What is it that gets to you? _ ” It was taxing not being able to just kill him, but there had to be something Angel valued above all else; something that Alastor could hold over his head. 

“Aww, but I don’t think your lil’ girlfriend would like that would she?” Angel quirked his head. “She’d be pretty upset with ya if you tortured an innocent gal, you wouldn’t want that would ya? I can keep this going all day buddy, I used to do this kind of thing to earn my  _ allowance _ !” Angel laughed, leaning back and kicking his feet back up again, his retracted third set of arms popping out just to show off. “Face it, Smiles, you ain’t got shit on me if you can’t kill me.”

“Is that so?” Alastor let out a sigh as if he had met his match.  _ But there was always something. _ “Very well then. I suppose you’ll actually have to start working around here then. Can’t have you lazing about all day and still get free room and board…” Alastor looked him up and down. 

“And that horrible outfit of yours will have to go as well then, won’t it? So very unprofessional to wear a mini skirt at work. I think some corduroy stripes would suit you just fine. Get you fitted into a proper blazer and bow tie. I mean,  _ Tony _ , your top is too revealing.” Alastor tapped his finger on the arm of his seat once more. “And that pig of yours will have to go unless he wears something similar as you are an employee of the hotel… So is your pet.” 

Alastor grinned at him, folding his hands only to settle his head onto them. “What do you think?” He tilted his head to the side, the lights turning off, taking away the attention to his victims for the moment being. 

Angel’s smug expression fell. His mind took a minute to catch up with the sudden swing from the typical threats of harm to friends and family, to threatening his fashion sense and comfort at the hotel. The spider demon sat up immediately, struggling against the tendrils. “EY! You can’t fuckin’ control what I wear! I’ll wear whatever the fuck I want! And I’d roll over dead before I let you put my baby in some tacky outfit! He only wears what  _ I _ buy for him and that’s it! ”

“Care to open that mouth of yours filled with tacky opinions to my beloved again?” Alastor twitched, it was the only sign of him moving as he watched the now struggling spider. Such a shame. The only care this creature had, was of materialistic things. And pigs of course. Then again, he was a pig himself, wasn’t he? “Otherwise, you will be forced to abide by a dress code and uniform policy. As you are  _ hotel staff _ …” He left it open-ended, considering if he didn’t agree to keep his asinine mouth stapled shut, he would gladly do it for him. 

Not maiming him didn’t mean he couldn’t make some temporary.. adjustments.

There were differences!

“Ugh, fine, ya dickhead.” Angel rolled his bloody shoulder, scowling up at the tall demon. “I wasn’t gonna talk to her anyway, you know. She didn’t listen to me, I was just tryin’ to help a dumbass. I’m not sticking my neck out for anybody, so ya don’t have to worry about me.”

This was the last time Angel would worry about anyone besides himself. He tried to do that girl a favor and she tattled to her crazy cannibal boyfriend and now Angel was in the hot seat with the threat of a uniform hanging over his head. She could sink or swim on her own. With her track record there- it probably wouldn’t go well. But that wasn’t any of his business. Not anymore.

The tentacles that had been wrapped around him sank suddenly back into the void surrounding them. Alastor sat up straighter and seemed to relax. But there was still one thing bothering him. “For your own information…” Alastor stood, well aware that the demon with him was taller. 

“It  _ is _ her that is keeping you breathing, and of course, by proxy, my affection, and love!” He grabbed Angel’s chin and forced him to look at him. “What she and I have is  _ nothing _ like what Valentino did to you, you meddling fool. So do keep your faulty traumas to  _ yourself _ .” A deep rumble echoed around them, a flash of anger expressed through the microphone they were both residing in for the moment. He tossed Angel’s head away like it was garbage, and as fast as they had gotten there, they were both standing at the top of the stairs where they had been. 

“Remember, I’ll put you in corduroys!” He tapped Angel on the head condescendingly before walking away. 

_ “Yeah, yer a real fuckin’ Romeo, Smiles!” _ Angel Dust yelled after him as he got up and began brushing the dust from his coat, all the while grumbling to himself about tacky clothes and shitty old fashion tastes. 

“Fuckin’ corduroys.”


	67. I Am Running On Spite And Fury

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting to find upon returning to the hotel; whether it would be the remains of burning ashes, or if it would even still be standing on its foundations. 

The place had a whole lot of questionable details sprinkled in here and there when it came to design choices, though, to be fair, you weren’t a construction worker. But if there was one thing you were pretty damn sure wasn’t normal, it was the fact that there was a ship wedged into the side of it. Now you hadn’t exactly been able to ask as it hadn’t been an important subject, but you were  _ pretty  _ certain that it was merely decorative rather than actually serving a distinct purpose. 

It looked far too run down to be anything other than that. Maybe it was used to balance the hotel… or something. Honestly, you couldn’t think of the sole reason as to why there was a god damn ship on the side of the hotel, and you weren’t entirely sure why this was your first time really noticing it. That was something that just didn’t escape the naked eye, but it had for you. Hell was weird, and most of the time it just didn’t make sense. You would drive yourself mad if you tried to obtain reason in this land of madness. 

It was a quiet drive, fueled off of silent anger (from Vaggie) and optimistic thoughts that you could practically hear from Charlie. Nothing needed to be said, and as the three of you pulled up into the parking lot, you were simultaneously relieved to find that the hotel was still, in fact, standing. 

“See, Vaggie?” Charlie began, putting the car into park. “It’s fine! I don’t know why you don’t trust them.” You watched as she laid her hand on her fiance’s shoulder, a playful grin forming upon her face. “Trust the process!”

You began to unbuckle the seatbelt when Vaggie responded with a loud huff:

“There won’t be any process if they destroy the place. You saw how Alastor was when we left! Do you really think that the Radi-”

“I think they’ll be fine.” You interrupted, and when their attention fell to you, you found yourself a bit at a loss for words. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that you’ll just have to find another test subject. Ha… ha…” You gripped the flowers anxiously as you slowly reached over and opened your door, clearing your throat all the while. 

You frowned at the looming silhouette of the hotel. 

For the sake of Charlie’s dream, and to save Alastor’s head from being ripped off by a very untrusting moth demon (she was coming around though, thankfully), you hoped that he didn’t break his promise. But with his unpredictability, you never did know what to expect.

You hoped for the best. 

With a silent exhale, you looked back to the two approaching individuals who you had spent your day with - and more importantly, had made you one of their bridesmaids. It was a lot to process and a whole ass-load of stress that you weren’t even sure you were prepared for, but to see their genuine smiles, something that was so incredibly rare down here no less, you found a sense of determination in yourself to make their day nothing short for perfect. If you had to compete with Heaven to make that happen, you would.

As they joined you, quietly conversing about different subjects, you started up the driveway quietly. Your silence was mostly fed by your anxiety about what you’d find when you did actually get inside. Alastor could do holograms, you saw that before. What about if this hotel was a hologram? What if it was already  _ destroyed  _ and you were looking at something that didn’t exist!? No, that wouldn’t be possible… right? 

Honestly, you were just fishing for scenarios that wouldn’t make sense to better patch up your uncertainty as you walked up the steps of the porch. Still though, you couldn’t help but look back over to Charlie and Vaggie after a moment. Your gratitude had been something that had been eating you practically alive. “Uh, thanks for everything, by the way.” You paused, before moving towards the door. “I don’t know what brought me to talk about it now, but I just wanted to tell you that I probably wouldn’t have made it this far without you two.” 

God, you felt really emotional all of the sudden. A shiver ran up your spine at the revelation, before you swallowed it back down.  _ Strange _ . You stopped at the front door and found yourself staring at the glass-stained design. Apples, eyes, oh eyes. You would have to talk to Charlie about that later, ask her for more information on…  _ him.  _ You know, safety measures and how not to be the ultimate dumbass.

“Not a problem!” Charlie replied happily. “It’s been really nice to have someone who actually… you know…” She seemed at a loss for words for a moment, and you looked up to her with an amused expression, even while hers was knitted in what was reminiscent of deep thought.

“Experiences emotions?” Vaggie offered.

“Yeah!” Charlie paused before continuing her explanation. “A lot of people down here try to forget all about their human life, but you’ve kinda tried to remember it. It's a nice change of pace!” 

You let a grin stretch upon your lips as you looked between the two. Charlie, as always, seemed ecstatic and far too willing to want to forget the horrors of Hell, while Vaggie on the other hand had a more pessimistic and realistic outlook. They balanced each other out seamlessly, and as the one-eyed moth demon scrunched her face up, you came to the assumption that she had in fact winked at you.

“Ditto here, hun.” 

With one, long inhale, the three of you prepared yourself for the inevitable and turned your attention towards the entrance. Charlie grabbed the handle and pulled it open, allowing the two of you to duck underneath her arm to enter the lobby. Almost instantaneously, your focus landed on a spider who didn’t spare a single glance to either of you as he haughtily stomped towards the intended place that people went when they were at their wits end: the bar. 

For the first time, you weren’t greeted by the aggressive swishing of a tail nor a grumbling, muttered breath of Husk. It almost felt like a silent agreement had been made to remain quiet about what had happened, but it was quite rare to see Angel Dust in such a flustered manner considering how confident the guy was. The only time you had seen him like that was when the ‘Boss’ or ‘Val’ (you were pretty sure they were one and the same) had started sending items of appealing nature to lure the unsuspecting victim back into his manipulative web of lies. 

Angel must have noticed the three of you staring, because he turned to face you in his stool. “You got a fuckin’ starin’ problem, ya stupid broad?” He sneered, practically baring his teeth at you. He looked pissed off, which was the unfortunate normality to situations such as these, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself at a loss for words as a wave of concern washed over you. All that mattered for you in the moment, was that Alastor had indeed made good on his promise. There seemed to be some blood on Angel’s shoulder, but nothing serious and no pieces missing!

But your concern amplified once your mind began to make up ‘what if’ scenarios. What if you had messed up? What if this ruined _everything _with Angel? Sure, you could be a bit of a ditz when it came to understanding fundamentals of relationships, but when it really came down to it— did you do the right thing? 

A white-hot pang of anxiety rushed to your core. 

But before you could respond, a hand on your shoulder led you to look back to Vaggie. She had a smaller smile on her face, while her eye betrayed emotions of uncertainty and concern that very well could have rivaled your own.

“Come on, let’s let him cool off. It’s the best we can do for him right now,” her voice was quiet as she looked you in the eyes. 

But you didn’t want to. Every instinct, your desire to do the right thing, every moral told you to make sure that you hadn’t ruined what you had been working at slowly for months. You wanted to comfort him, hug him, tell him that you were sorry for getting him into this shit because if it wasn’t for you, he probably wouldn’t have been accosted by Alastor.

Charlie must have noticed the signs of your internally spiraling, and softly cleared her throat, taking a step forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Vaggie. “Listen,” she began, lowering her voice so that the only ones that would be able to hear her were you and her fiancé. “Let me tell you something. When we first found Angel Dust, he was tossed to the streets. Vaggie didn’t think he would have any promise of redemption, but I was insistent on trying. He is our first test subject, and we have been monitoring his behaviors ever since he came to the hotel.” 

You were a bit confused on why she was telling you all of this, but you managed to listen. 

“Being surrounded by people that genuinely care for him is difficult for Angel, which causes him to sometimes cave in on himself and snap at anyone who tries to get through his walls. I tried it before, many times, and it hasn’t worked. But that’s why Vaggie and him haven’t had as many spats lately, because we’ve observed his limits and respected them.” Her attention fell onto the arachnid who was now absentmindedly petting his spiked pig. He was careful to avoid the spikes along his spine and also the pig in question seemed to be getting intoxicated by drinking what spilled out of his owner’s glass. 

Ridiculous.

“That being said…” She looked back at Vaggie, and Vaggie nodded so lightly that you could have very well missed it if you hadn’t been looking at her in that moment. “We think that it’s possible that since you’re in a good place at the moment, that  _ you _ are the living proof that you can get out of a situation that  _ was  _ bad! So you have been able to show Angel that it’s  _ possible _ to be better. That he has something to strive for!” 

“We just… have seen a lot of improvement,” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, so don’t think that you haven’t done anything. We don’t mention it because we don’t want to bring unnecessary attention to it. But you’ve helped us, you’ve helped  _ Charlie  _ get that much closer,” Vaggie pinched her fingers together, “to accomplishing her dream.” 

You were going to fucking  _ cry.  _

“Okay, no crying.” Vaggie quickly pointed out once she saw your lip begin to wobble in a tell-tale sign. Even she had her limits to cheering up others, albeit, she had gotten a lot better in recent years. 

“Aw, Vaggie, let her be. I would probably cry too if I was told that I wasn’t… useless…” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, just as you dove forward and wrapped your arms around them both to the best of your ability. 

“Thank you.” You nuzzled your face into them.

Vaggie stilled for a moment before you felt an enveloping hug from both of them. 

“Don’t mention it, hun.”

“You’re welcome!”

And you probably would have stayed like that if you hadn’t come to the sudden realization that you probably missed a whole lot more than an engagement (which in your opinion was the most important). Peeling yourself away from the entanglement of limbs, you broke the tension that had gradually increased within the silence by inquiring about just that. “So, what else did we miss?”

Vaggie let out a groan and slapped her hand onto her face, dragging it down her cheek as she eyed you. “We have two new tenants, actually.  _ Alastor _ ,” she shouted towards wherever he was stalking. “Is supposed to be their manager. But luckily Niffty has been taking care of that.” 

Thankfully, she began to clarify on who the new residents were soon after: “Baxter has been on the top floor since he got here. Occasionally we’ll hear a big bang or the hotel will shake, but uh, I’d stay away from that if I were you.” She sounded exhausted, because she was. When Baxter and Crymini came to the hotel, Charlie had tried to organize a little mixer for everyone, but that hadn’t gone so well. 

Charlie let out a nervous laugh. “Yeeeah. And then there’s Crymini who is a bit temperamental and likes to cause trouble. But hey, we’ve all had a phase and she died a bit young, so…” Charlie trailed off with a shrug. “We’re just happy the free housing got some people’s attention.” 

“Well, I’ll be sure to meet them eventually, I guess. I’ll be around, so y’know.” You shrugged with a goofy smile. It made you a bit nervous to think about… socializing with new people. Especially with how things just went back at the emporium, but you supposed it was inevitable. “They seem like a real riot.”

“They’re definitely something.” Charlie laughed. 

“Anyway,” Vaggie continued. “Since you guys are back, there’s a meeting tomorrow morning to discuss managerial duties and whatnot, maybe some weddings planning on the side.” As she spoke the words, a light blush dusted over her cheeks. Charlie grinned and wrapped her arms around her, beaming and bouncing as was her way. 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow! Oh and bring Alastor!” She and Vaggie turned and headed down the hall, Charlie attached to her side the entire way to their room. 

As you were left alone, you found yourself at a loss of what to do next. You desperately wanted to find out what happened, understand what went down, y’know, the details. You wanted to also make things… better. 

Hesitating, you looked back over to Angel and watched as he downed yet another drink. Fat Nuggets was in his lap, and as the arachnid stroked him, you met the pig’s gaze for a second. It would be so easy to just go over there. But. But! You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You knew you wouldn’t want someone pestering you if that (whatever it was) happened to you. Time was the salve to all wounds, you repeated in your mind. Time would heal things. 

Right? 

And so after a moment of remaining there, you decided to go back to your room. It had been so long, it felt, since you had been in there. Sure, you had stopped in periodically to check in on things, but when was that last time you had actually enjoyed your own  _ space?  _ Where you could do or be anything you wanted because it was  _ yours?  _ Moving towards the staircase, you walked upwards and then down into the familiar hallway that held a whole lot of memories. It was almost nostalgic, in a sense. 

There was that one painting that Lucifer had crawled out of. 

And there was a picture of their family, another of them all dressed up, a few of Vaggie and Charlie, a few scenic views.

It didn’t take you long to reach your room, and once you did, you swapped the flowers to your left hand and opened the door with your right. A welcoming  _ creeeak  _ greeted you, and you found yourself sighing when you stepped in completely. Shutting the door with a small ‘click’, you put the flowers on the bedside table, just beside a book. 

Oh, the book. It was right where you had left it. Grabbing it by the spine, you moved to sit on your bed, and settled yourself atop the covers, letting your head rest against the pillows. It felt nice to be in your own bed again. Kicking off your shoes, you allowed yourself to fully relax as you opened the book and flipped towards the dog-eared page. You could learn a whole lot about the native species down here, but with Critter growing at a remarkable speed, it was critical that you knew almost as much as Alastor when it came to them. 

“Dae… Daemonis Alligatordae,” you read aloud the cursive. All of the notes seemed hand-written, but the handwriting didn’t match Alastor’s. He must have gotten the book elsewhere. Nevertheless, you continued to read:

‘There is a species down in Hell that resembles what one might be familiar with up on the surface. Upon first sight, the creature looks to be like a North American Alligator, but upon further inspection, it is anything but. Another native species, the Daemonis Crocodylinae, (see chapter #23), are often mistaken for each other. The two main differences between the Alligator and Crocodile are that the Alligators have U-shaped faces that are wide and short; Crocodiles have slender and V-shaped muzzles.

The Demon Alligator is far larger and much darker than their surface-dwelling counterpart. Rather than having greenish scales and more natural tones, the demon alligator has closer to black scales. It was only after collecting my first sample of shed scales and looking at them under proper lighting that I found they had an iridescence to them. 

Specimens are generally covered with slitted eyes that can vary in coloration from red to orange, and almond in shape. Interestingly enough, there have been anecdotes of black-eyed Daemonis Alligatordae, though I myself have not come into contact with them myself. Upon hatching, the hatchling is reminiscent of that of a normal alligator, but as it sheds its scales upon growing (a feat that has not been observed upon the surface world), eyes take their place. It’s uncertain of the reason for the mass amount of eyes, but it’s assumed to give it a 360-degree perspective while hunting. This advantage surely increases the species survival rate among the other predatory creatures that roam in the pit. 

Those that do not grow eyes, a genetic mutation that has only been observed once, have fallen prey to other species. 

Not only that, but the species that are from the family of Crocodylia also seem to get exponentially larger within the first three years after birth, after which, the growth rate then slows. This is under no circumstance to say that this species does not continue to grow as they age, only at a slower rate. After the three year mark, the Daemonis Alligatordae can be as long as 20 meters (65’7”) and as heavy as 6,000 pounds if not heavier. Though there have been sightings of specimens far larger. 

It is also important to note that these creatures also have many spikes (made of bone) lining their joints, including but not limited to: spine, ankle, tail, and even decorative spikes around their eyes (mostly observed in male specimens). Females can also have these spikes, but rather than decorative, those spikes most assuredly serve as further protection and sensors for the face. Males are often found to have longer or thicker ones. During breeding season, these spikes will fill with blood to frame what was once plaque-colored bone in a deep red hue while the females remain with the same color no matter the season. 

When attempting to approach a demon gator, even though this is highly inadvisable, one should move slowly and carefully. It is a very volatile species that will attack even if unprovoked. The only way I was able to approach was by using a very powerful sedative after shooting through a blowgun, aimed at the softer belly. It was only after knocking out one was able to approach safely to continue my findings.

These findings, after having observed for weeks on end, support the hypothesis that these creatures harbor an intelligence that can rival our own.’

Well, that made a lot more sense then. Critter acted like a toddler, because he  _ was  _ one, There were a bunch of sketches on the page showing the differences between different physical features, and the more that you read, the more the book began to sound like a personal  _ journal.  _ Oh well. It was very informative, and now you were a bit more informed on what you were housed with. Speaking of Daemonis Alligatordae (what a mouthful), where the hell was Critter? Ehh… He was probably fine. 

Hopping up off of the bed, you walked over to the bathroom. What other ways could you relax? Your eyes zeroed in on the tub that was reminiscent of the one Alastor had. Then again there wasn’t much to spice up a bath, so as you leaned over to the knob, you turned on the appropriate temperature. Leaning back, you walked over to the shower and pulled out the conditioner, shampoo, body wash, and the razor. Placing them on the lip, you took in a deep breath and let out a relieved sigh. 

_ Home.  _ And best of all, no mud, and no swamp! Reaching back to undo your bow-tie and pop the buttons off of your shirt, you shimmied out of your clothing and finally stepped into the bath. The book, thankfully, was still next to you so once you slipped in and let the warm water pull you into a comfortable embrace, you reached over and grabbed it again. You briefly wondered what other creatures ran wild in Hell. 

Opening to the index, you skimmed it and settled on something that… called to you. Sealife. Daemonis Carcharocles  _ Megalodon _ . If you thought that the Daemonis Alligatordae was a mouthful, god damn! “I’m not even going to try to say that.” You murmured to yourself. Flipping to the chapter, you were greeted with sketches of a smaller shark being chased by another shark, and then something of gargantuan size. A colossal specimen with voided, empty eyes and multiple rows of teeth. As you began to read the information, you were met with recognition. Sharks… Shark Week. You squinted at the page as if it would give you more information.

As you digested a few lines of information, flashes of memories strobed across your vision like a cut-up movie reel. 

You remembered sitting on your couch at home, your real home, and sitting right in the middle curled up comfortably while you watched Animal Planet’s Shark Week. The couch had been so soft and worn in. The joy you felt while you watched your favorite annual television program tingled in the tips of your fingers as another memory related to these creatures hit you. Memories were rare to you, so the fact that you were accessing them at all made you excited.

A small shaky breath left you. You liked sharks when you were alive. Your thumb stroked across the page fondly. 

How ironic that you were probably eaten by them.

You wondered if you could find something similar down here. You brought your knees to your chest and settled into the book even more, with a smile stretched upon your lips. Sure you had probably been eaten by one… but if they were your favorite, you supposed in some sick, morbid way, it was cool. You were pulled out of your sudden interest when you put the book down and decided to finish your bath. It was fun while it lasted. You could read more later! You hadn’t even known there was a sea in Hell, to be honest. 

Oh well. 

You finished your bath quickly, though it was relaxing to the highest degree. The shampoo and conditioner smelled lovely and while you did enjoy using Alastor’s own, this one was more  _ you.  _ It smelled like wildflowers. Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a towel along with your hair and put everything away. Next, you brushed your teeth. After that was said and done, especially after you combed through the wasp nest that was, unfortunately, your hair, you felt… refreshed. What better way to relax now than to get in pajamas and read the day away? Going to your closet, you did just that. They were like silk, cool against your skin but comfortable. Can’t forget the book! 

Grabbing that too, you moved to hop on top of your bed with a rejuvenated excitement that you hadn’t felt in… what felt like forever. Instead of skipping through it, though, you supposed it would be best to start at chapter one. 

“Chapter one…”

“You know, I remember borrowing that!”

To say that you screamed would be an understatement as you flung the book towards… Alastor. He looked smug, his lips pulled into his famous smile as he stood at the edge of your bed. He caught it effortlessly and began to flip through it to your once dog-eared page while you managed to catch your breath. 

“George and Georgina are still getting bigger, you know. To be completely honest, my dear, I do think that I’ll have to create a  _ tenth  _ circle to fit them eventually! That swamp won’t be suitable forever.” As he continued, he put his knee onto the bed, the springs suddenly creaking under his weight as he pushed himself up, only to lower himself between your legs so that he could rest his head in your chest. 

You let out a loud breath as you relaxed back into his presence. You had been so invested in your book that you had let it slip by your mind that you should have checked up on your lover as well. Perhaps it was best that you didn’t though. He had come to you, and your heart fluttered at the notion. 

He was safe, and he didn’t have blood on him. 

As he handed you the book back and rested his full weight upon you, you gently brought your fingers to thread through the tresses of his hair. You could physically see him melt into the touch, the tension that had once been in his body fading away into merely an afterthought. Instead of immediately going back to reading, despite what your interests currently lied in, you quietly reveled in his comforting presence. Your eyes fell onto his hand as he lifted it, and with it came the shadow that accompanied him. 

“Don’t mind me, darling. You won’t even notice I’m here.” 

You begged to differ, considering he was laying on you, but you wouldn’t say anything because you didn’t  _ want  _ to. You liked him being here with you, sharing in these semi-cuddling sessions, where he had come to you for comfort just like you did so many times before. Intriguingly, his fingers swirled here and there, and you watched as Chester transformed into an actual cat. Well, a shadow cat. You hadn’t even been aware that it could do that. Glowing trails followed his finger, and the shadow reacted seamlessly as a cat would, swatting and reaching for the glowing shapes its master was making. A silent but amusing activity, one that was mindless and relaxing. 

You decided not to question what had happened at that moment, too at ease to put either of you in that position, but as you watched the shadow chase after the beam of light, you blinked. “Oh right.” You weren’t sure why watching them play caused you to remember the flowers, but now that you looked over to the flowers that were sitting on your bedside table, either Alastor had completely ignored them or just hadn’t been interested to question it.

“Here, get up for a second.”

He didn’t even pause his movements.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!” He rubbed his forehead onto your sternum. “What is it?” A grumble.

“C’mon, Al. I got you something while we were out. I promise you can lay on me again afterward.”

“Just tell me what it is.”

“No.”

“Then we have reached an impasse.”

You groaned. “ _ Please!” _

He refused to even answer you, and you let out an aggrieved sigh. “Please. Please. Please. Please-” you were willing to do this until you annoyed the shit out of him until he got off of you.

But unfortunately, if Alastor was anything, he was a master at being just as annoying. As such, you felt him wrap his arms around you and make sure his face was buried in your stomach, just so he could blow hard into your pajamas, making a god awful noise as he did so. No one could outdo him, and he refused to get up. Not for a  _ surprise _ . 

You laughed at the sensation - you couldn’t help it, your stomach was ticklish! “Ugh!” You huffed, “fine!” And then you pointed over to the flowers. “There. I got you them.”

He rose only to squint at your table. “Magnolias? For me?” How touching. He snapped them into a black vase full of water. “They’re my favorite, an absolute staple in Louisiana! How did you know?” He looked at you, curiosity written on his features. 

“The place we went to was run by some girl named Lilac? Tall, purple, kinda intimidating? Really quiet? She somehow knew, I dunno.” And then you lifted your head up to press your lips to his chin. “I’m glad you like them, though.”

“Oh, I see.” He laughed a single note, his eyes crinkling. “You and the wayward souls that you insist on calling your friends went to one of Rosie’s shops! That little ward of hers can be very funny if she lets you get to know her…” 

He trailed off, a brief thoughtful expression forming upon his face.

“That does remind me- I’m sure Rosie herself will be in attendance at the wedding, and since she is one of my dearest friends, I’ll have to personally introduce you!” He appeared absolutely radiant and that was all you needed to ensure that it was all worth it in the end. You watched with a particular softness as you met his eyes as he continued: “Thank you, darling, that was very thoughtful.” 

He dropped his head back to your stomach. You beamed down to him. You were in the gardener’s debt, and you thought of writing a thank-you letter to her. It wasn’t like you could call her. Come to think of it, Alastor remarking that this Rosie person was a friend of his got you thinking. You didn’t realize he actually had… friends? If this friendship was anything like his ‘friendship’ with Husker, you couldn’t help but feel a little doubtful. 

“Hey Al?” You brought your hand to thread it through his locks once again, and he grumbled in response. He had gone back to trailing his hand about in the air, only this time, making glowing magnolia blossoms, holograms of the real thing.

You watched the feat for a moment longer before deflating with a breath. It was awfully beautiful.

“Are you okay?”

Alastor stopped his actions, and you snapped your gaze back down to him as you observed his behavior. The stiffness was back. 

“The next time someone gets between us…” He began, rising back up to grab the book, and you let him. “I won’t hold back.” His expression turned wicked, the black of his gums visible for a moment. His tone never wavered, “I would be happier if Angel weren’t breathing, but, I promised.” And that was the end of it. He started reading from the first page, his voice taking on a slower pace just so you could hear what he was saying. He didn’t leave any room for commentary, and so you were left with your thoughts.

You just hoped that no one would ever be on that receiving end of the stick. You felt a bit nauseated at the thought of Angel being hurt because while you didn’t know him much, he was still your friend. They all were. But sometimes, you knew you wouldn’t be able to protect them all. And for the first time, you were okay with that. In the end, the only one that you could really protect was yourself.

You see, there were many reasons Alastor tried not to get into the habit of making promises. Promises had the potential to be broken, which is why he seemed to have the tendency to steer clear of them. But he had made one for you and kept it. While he should have been happy that he wouldn’t disappoint you, the anger he still felt towards the snarky arachnid made him… murderous. He wanted to rip him apart, shred his limbs and feed him to his alligators, or perhaps even cook him into a spider stew. 

Sure he withdrew a few drops of blood, but that was nothing compared to what he really wanted to do. Angel had gotten under your skin in a way that still bothered him. Influenced you in a way he had not been expecting, in fact, it had been enough that it had driven a wedge between you. Angel’s thoughtless intervention had separated you from  _ him _ and Alastor was positive he would never forgive the pathetic excuse of a demon for that. He had never been the forgiving sort, and he wasn’t going to start forgiving those that didn’t deserve it now just because you thought you owed Angel something. 

Whatever loyalty you had for him was foolish. Angel would sooner throw you to the wolves than help you, and Alastor knew that. But what Alastor was sure of, was that you were still unsure where you stood with the flamboyant sin star. Knowing you, you had probably forgiven him and asked for his blessing before you left the hotel searching for him. Even the thought made his blood boil. Alastor hated loose ends, and in his eyes, Angel was nothing more than a bit of string that needed to be burned off. 

But as much of a grump as he was, there was something calming in being able to lay silently with the one you loved, to be able to hold them and offer a vulnerability that wasn’t often exercised down here. To that, the two of you had dozed off soon after reading the first chapter. It was therapeutic, almost. It gave you a sense of grounding that you would have lost otherwise, and you were beyond relieved that you had found it with him. 

But as peaceful the quiet was, you had been stirred from your slumber and your eyes fell to watch how his chest extended and deflated with each breath he took. It would have been so easy to ignore the fact that there was obviously something weird going on, to just go back to sleep and deal with it at a later time, but that  _ wasn’t  _ you. 

You were someone who was impulsive, trying to fix something (be it conflict or otherwise) immediately, and without thinking through how it could affect the situation at hand.

However, you  _ had  _ been trying to get better. 

You were particularly proud of yourself for not marching straight up to his room and demanding information, or confronting Angel Dust despite your nearly overwhelming desire to comfort. You felt guilty, some sort of unspoken problem that was lacing the air in poison and successfully suffocating the presence of small talk. But as you laid with your head against his chest, your arm draped over him comfortably, there was something that told you that he was, indeed, awake. Perhaps it was the increased rise and fall, or maybe it was something more instinctual. 

He was quiet. He was  _ never  _ quiet unless something bothered him. Instead of propping your chin up and putting him in the spotlight by staring at him, you remained practically motionless. But then there was a particularly long, drawn-out sigh from his nose that made you come to the understanding that he too was stressed by the sudden development. You could feel his gaze of you, you could feel the sensation of his thumbs lightly tapping against your body - a subconscious sign of how busy his thoughts really were. 

“I wanted to rip that spider limb from limb.” He started, his voice was low, partially plagued by sleep as he allowed his gaze to drift once more with his thoughts. You scrunched your eyebrows together as you sleepily looked up to him, gently bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into your gentle affections, his lips pressing briefly against your palm in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Bringing his hand up, he grasped your own and led it back down to lay upon his chest.

“The only thing that stopped me from fulfilling my wants was the promise I made to you.” There was silence for a long moment, but just as you were about to respond, he closed his eyes and took in a deep, wavering breath as if he were truly trying to calm himself. “But what baffles me is why you would want to protect someone who would sooner see you ripped apart than ever acknowledge that you had saved his life.” His tone was darker, wavering upon a sinister one that would have had you running for the hills if you weren’t who you were, and he wasn’t who he was.

You decided to stay silent as he reopened his eyes, and you noticed how his pupils had formed into mere slits. 

“He would never protect you, or even call you friend, and yet you wanted my word to assure his safety. In my mind, it makes no sense and it  _ infuriates _ me,” his grip on your hand tightened, “that while your mercy has spared, it has stifled me from potentially saving you in the future. I know he will hold what happened in his mind, and my threats will only be threats because I made a  _ promise _ .” 

“I don’t like it.” He ended with a huff.

You took in a deep inhale and released a long, drawn out-breath. “I’ll explain it to you if you’d like.” You toyed with his shirt for a moment longer before you pushed yourself up with your elbow, only to scoot back into the headboard. It was difficult to explain something that felt so  _ natural  _ to you - your empathy was one to rival Charlie’s own, and you supposed that was one of the reasons you took so well to being her friend.

“I think you understand a lot more than you’re letting on, though. Let me start from the beginning and then you can tell me if I’m right?” You closed your eyes as you leaned back into the pillows that propped you up, your head resting awkwardly against the wood. 

Alastor groaned and rolled to the side, throwing his arm up and waving it around. “Fine. Do your best, see if you can explain this puzzle of emotional ineptitude.” 

_ Ridiculous _ . 

“He was there in the beginning, just like you were.” You started softly. “But he was the  _ first.  _ Angel Dust found me and for some reason, he either had a moment of humanity and felt  _ bad  _ for me, or he thought to help Charlie with the hotel by bringing in another sinner who had nothing but rags of clothing stuck to her body.” You found yourself reminiscing of all you had gone through, and to say it was a lot would be an understatement. “He is the reason I was brought to the hotel, and he’s one of the reasons I am who I am today. If he hadn’t found me, or if he just walked past without a care in the world, I don’t know  _ who  _ I would be.” Angel Dust had a larger part in your story than you often gave him credit for, and you were in his debt.

“He was one of the first people that I considered a friend. He helped train me to defend myself, he helped me with you in the beginning, he gave me advice that definitely helped, and he was there to comfort me in his own way. He also helped me get ready for our first date! He didn’t have to, but he did. I know he doesn’t consider me to be a friend, or at least he has been too stubborn to call me one, but I think of him as one. I’ve tried to get that through to him, and I think he’s starting to understand slowly.” You opened your eyes to look down at him.

“I owed him one, even if he made our relationship messy for a short time. I won’t forget what he did, but I do forgive him for it. He was… trying to apply his life lessons to mine.” A small frown touched your lips. “If there’s anyone you should be mad at, it’s me. I was that one that took it two steps further and made it into a bigger deal than it was. I overthought, and I became destructive. I’m not happy that I did what I did, but I do think it’s made us stronger.”

You took in a deep breath. “He saved my life in the beginning, so I saved his.”

Alastor felt his anger brewing. This was absurd. Wacky nonsense, completely foolish. “You owe him  _ nothing _ .” He snapped. “That’s all very  _ sweet _ , darling, but he’s also the one the sliced you open and don’t forget he made you cry for the first time down here by giving you a cold splash of reality. I will blame him for what happened between us, because I cannot…” He stopped when he felt his heart pulse heavily in his chest. 

You frowned.

“I don’t want to think you truly thought so lowly of my feelings for you that you believe even an ounce of what he told you applied to us.”

You remained quiet, your thoughts collecting and then fizzling out into nothingness. You couldn’t think of anything to say that you hadn’t already said. In your mind, that was how it went, and you were all bits confused. You had thought that chasing after Angel to get some semblance of a friendship with him was how it naturally went, you thought you had been doing it  _ right.  _

“What do you want me to say?” You looked down at him, your voice holding a sense of frustration that mirrored his own. He was so thick-headed sometimes. 

You  _ didn’t  _ have the experience like he did, you were learning this as you went, and within the few months you had been down in Hell, you thought you had been doing  _ okay.  _ Despite your desire to reach out and touch him, you didn’t. You instead made a fist with the blankets and took a deep breath, your eyes narrowing.

“You can’t just kill people if they make life hard for you, Al! You work through it. Talk through it.” 

“No. I work through things with you. I talk through things with _ you _ .” He explained quickly. 

“Others aren’t a concern for me. I am used to murdering people who otherwise inconvenience me because down in Hell, that’s how things work.” There was a big difference between you and the other denizens of Hell. To him, he actually cared for you. The rest he could take or leave. 

“Angel is of no consequence to me, but when he makes things difficult for me, or us, it’s difficult to reign in my natural inclination to decapitate him and parade his head on a spike through the town.” He filled the silence with further explanation.

“This place,” he finally rolled onto his back and sat up, joining you in the process, “has been a safe haven for you, but outside the walls, there are so many things that you’ve yet to experience. You haven’t even lived through your first Extermination. I understand you are continuing to learn, but you must realize, I am continuing how to learn to be with you, as your partner. This is…” he paused, and balled up his fists in his lap. 

Alastor sighed. “This is not easy for me to just abandon my entire nature and how I have been living for the past century without you. You’re asking me to flip it off like some confounded switch, but I too need time to adjust.” 

He deflated a bit and dropped his head onto yours, all the while wrapping his lean digits around yours as he squeezed you in some type of self-comfort. “This is still  _ new _ .” He murmured. 

You found yourself relaxing as he offered you physical comfort - it was strange, if not a bit funny with how easily you could lose yourself in his touch, your frustrations fizzling out. Leaning back into him, you pushed your own head beneath his to settle. “I know.” Well, you did now. “I want to learn with you. I want you to teach me, not just how to do cool things like powers or accessing my full form, but how to  _ live.”  _ Not just survive. 

“What can I do to make it better?” To fix the situation, to be more understanding, or whatever he needed. You still wouldn’t let him kill Angel, though.

He let out a groan of frustration. “I don’t know! This is all too much thinking about everything! I want a break. We’ve been back one day and already I’m over it!” He flattened out over you like a layer of latex: clingy and annoying, because of course, he would be. 

“We have a meeting to get to and demons to learn about.”Another grunt of dissatisfaction left him, his face burrowing into your neck as if that would save him from the monotony of the day. “Just, carry me to our next destination and leave me to fend for myself in this hellhole!” He cried out dramatically, letting himself fall completely limp on you. 

“You are,” you laughed softly, “so dramatic.” Honestly, where did the guy get this from? Must have been from his past, or  _ something.  _ “But yeah, we should go down to the kitchen and get something to eat. Maybe we can have the meeting in there while you eat. Food always makes you feel better,” you tilted your head to nuzzle his own before attempting to sit up. “C’mon.”

“Carry me.” He insisted, draping himself more purposefully over you. “I’ve carried you, it’s my turn.”

You gawked before your eyes narrowed. “Fine. Get up first.”

“... Are you actually going to carry me, or is this some dastardly trick?” His own eyes narrowed. 

You remained silent, motioning with your hand to ‘get up’.

“Fine!” He snapped into a standing position and held out his arms in a ‘T’ motion. “I am prepared to be carried away by you, darling!” His arm slapped the lamp off of your dresser and right into the wall. He snapped his fingers so quickly to put everything back into its place, all with a stupid grin on his face. 

You were going to pretend you didn’t see it. You were still in your pajamas, and if anyone thought they were going to get you to change, they were wrong. Too lazy. Releasing a small yawn, you found a mischievous smile growing upon your lips as you stepped forward, only to wrap your arms around him in a  _ hug.  _ Pulling away, you leaned up and pecked him on the lips. “Sike.” Ha ha.

But! Oh fuck, the joke was on you, because he fell forward with a laugh, all the while you tried your damndest to keep yourself upright. “I’m not moving unless I’m carried. Otherwise, you will find me here until someone moves me! I was hoping it would be you. Tap into some of that demon strength unless, of course, you’re too much of a pansy!” 

“A pansy!” You huffed. “How would I even carry you? Also, we have more guests! Do you want them to meet the Great Big Bad Radio Demon like that?!” Honestly, you were just making up excuses at this point. It wasn’t that you couldn’t - you weren’t human anymore, but you just were too lazy. Seven Deadly Sins? Sloth would absolutely be yours. As you looked up to him, you were met with the same expectant look and you deflated. 

You weren’t going to win this.

You grumbled before you put your hands under his arms and strained. Like really, really hard.

You didn’t even try.

“Well, looks like I can’t.” A smug grin formed upon your lips. 

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Pity.” He snapped himself into the kitchen, disappointment on his brow. How rude! 

You were just giving him a hard time. You  _ would have  _ if he had stayed a minute longer, but nope! He was gone just like that. “ _ Pity. _ ” you mocked, shaking your head this way and that as you made your way towards the door.

What a fine start to the day.


	68. So, You're Telling Me The Microphone Was Bullying You?

It was interesting to think of all the routes your life could have taken, but you don’t think you would trade anything for the path you were on now. This very hallway held partial parts of your memories, the hotel holding the majority, but as you walked down, book still under your arm, you began to think about all the little things you had yet to come to realize about yourself. How much you had actually grown from the flighty, unsure, and chaotic being you once were- just a girl on her last straw and hopeless in a world that seemed too strange to simply be a figment of the imagination, to the more confident one you had become.

You continued down the long spiraling path, all the while thinking about the fact that you hadn’t even meant to become a member of the staff in the first place. It just _ happened. _Lost without a calling or a way to carve a future out for yourself, you succumbed to the eccentric man in red when he had pointed out that you had a ‘Hotel Staff’ shirt on. He had been a nuisance, someone who you would have rather jumped off a nine-story building than be in the same vicinity as, and yet now you couldn’t imagine a life without him. 

It was a bit amusing how things had ended up if you were completely honest. A world that had once been meaningless, a place that was supposed to be where the evilest and most corrupt beings inhabited now gave you something to fight for. They were all worth it, and you loved them individually... even if _ some _of them made it hard to do so. 

To be fair with yourself, you wondered if you had fallen down a day earlier, a day later, somewhere _ else _ other than where you had been- would anything have changed? Would you be different? Would you still, by chance, have been found by Angel Dust or someone else from the hotel? Where would you have been now if not? If there wasn’t some puppeteer pulling the strings and it had all been by chance, you had been _ ridiculously _ lucky.

You sighed and readjusted the book in your grip.

However, just as you were about to reach the banister, you noticed the frames upon the walls begin to tremble. Your eyebrows furrowed together, closing in to inspect it. Immediately your mind began to ponder on the possibilities that could cause a reaction. If it was just another game of Lucifer’s or a distant territory dispute, but when you pressed your hand onto it to steady it (as if that would do anything for shaking), you nearly jumped a hundred feet at the loud-

** _BANG! _ **

-that reverberated throughout the hotel. Instantly, you went on the defense, jumping back and holding your ground to the best of your ability. The dozens of other paintings trembled for a long moment before going back to how they had been before: still. Dust and loose paint from the ceiling, places where little Niffty had been unable to reach, sprinkled down. Bringing a hand up, you dusted away the remnants that had ended up in your tresses before squinting up at the origin. It had come from somewhere above you. 

Continuing your descent towards the lobby, you paused at the top of the stairs. Charlie was there, holding her breath and staring up at the chandelier that swung this way and that. 

“Um...” Your voice didn’t hold the urgency it used to, simply because you had _ begun _to notice that weird things happened all the time down here. Shifting your attention towards the chandelier as well, you watched as it slowed into a stop. 

Charlie must have come out to inspect the damages because once she was sure that everything visible was in the clear, she turned her attention to you as you descended the main stairwell. 

“Hectic morning?” You offered cheekily.

She wiped her brow. “You could say that!”

The princess awaited you to join her before reentering the kitchen through the swing door, the dining room table set up to include baskets that mirrored the last manager meeting you had attended. Were you a manager now? You didn’t know _ what _you were at this point, but you were more than happy to support the cause. Leading the way, you were soon greeted by the sight of Alastor who was inspecting the deep indentations that Vaggie had made into the table. 

“You know,” he began, pointing at the mess.

“No, I don’t. And I don’t want to. It’s too early for _ you_.” Vaggie counteracted.

Alastor’s smile turned into a thin one. Being interrupted wasn’t something he was fond of, but it always seemed to happen! “I wasn’t finished talking, thank you very much.” He continued, completely ignoring Vaggie’s original request of just being quiet. 

“As I was saying before I was so _ rudely _ interrupted, you should probably invest in a table that is scratch-free. These things happen around you a lot, my dear Vaggie! Though I’m sure it would cease if you ended up—”

“Don’t.” 

“_ Smiling _more.” 

A loud groan was all that was given to Alastor in response to his prodding, said demon looked particularly fond of the outcome of his pestering, leaning back with his now brightened grin. Just as he did though, his attention fell onto you and Charlie and he visibly perked up. The two of you had simply been silent, amused, and content in simply watching the situation unfold. Ah, just like old times. 

Parting from Charlie’s side, you instantly navigated around the table to join him, where he leaned down simultaneously to you standing on your tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. After a shared moment of silent greeting, one that you were actually really relieved to have because that meant that his recent show had only been out of his tendency for drama and not actual disappointment, you pulled the chair out and sat in it. At that moment, it was only the quiet agreement that the meeting was about to start that gave you the knowledge of what was to come.

“So… what was that?” 

They all seemed to know what you were talking about immediately.

“Baxter.” Vaggie groaned.

“He’s one of the new tenants that I was telling you about,” Charlie continued to explain, rubbing her neck anxiously. “Though I think he’s here for the free housing and food rather than actual redemption.” And that was the real kicker: most demons were. “He is usually holed up in his room, concocting crazy experiments.”

“Be happy you haven’t met him.” The moth demon sighed, leaning on her fist. “He’s going to end up blowing the roof off of this place Charlie. Are you _ sure _we should allow him to stay?”

“Well, we can’t just kick him out.” She frowned. “And it’s not like we can’t just repair damages.”

“But we shouldn’t _ have _to repair any damages!” Vaggie exclaimed.

Alastor seemed to be rather tickled by the gentle disagreement, his ears pivoted forward to pick up each and every word said as his claws thrummed against the table. He obviously wasn’t going to be the one to break it up, so you were just going to have to do it yourself. With a clear of your throat, you scooted your seat in, placing the book off to the side for a moment as you tried to understand all that was happening at…

You looked at the clock.

10:30 in the morning. 

“What’s on the agenda for today?” 

You honestly just wanted to go back to bed. You were spoiled when it came to sleeping at Alastor’s cabin- you could have slept whenever and wherever you wanted. But here? You had a job to do, a title to live up to, and a responsibility to help your friends. Stifling a yawn, you reached over and picked up a muffin before bringing it to your mouth.

And then you paused, before breaking off a piece and offering it to your lover who only looked at it for a second before shaking his head. 

“I thought you knew what my diet consists of, sweetheart.”

“I do, just wanted to offer.” You felt him reach down and place his hand on your outer thigh, giving a comforting squeeze. 

“I appreciate it, but I’ll have to decline.” 

You nodded and popped the piece of muffin into your mouth before turning your attention back to Charlie and Vaggie. Charlie in particular was beaming, while Vaggie was neutral in expression. It was obvious that she still didn’t trust Alastor completely yet, but at least she was beginning to realize he was simply an annoying fly that buzzed around her rather than an actual danger to the hotel as a whole. 

_ Still. _

“Right! Right! I was thinking maybe… uhm, well,” Charlie started rolling her thumbs around one another, twirling and twiddling them absentmindedly. Vaggie noticed and perked up, leaning over to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

“She wants to open up the wedding to the public. Like a real Royal Wedding and use it to show that the hotel is a safe space for demons to stay, that their princess will protect them.” 

You choked on your muffin. 

“Sorry, _ public? _Guys, are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean on the surface that kinda thing was a big deal. Meaning there was a whole lot of security and whatnot.” Huh, you remembered that. Hm. “Not that I’m saying you can’t, but it could be dangerous.” You reached out a hand to place it on top of Charlie and Vaggie’s for a moment, setting down your muffin. “This isn’t the surface, and I think a lot of demons—”

“Since when are you the word of the wise?” Alastor rose a brow. After all, weren’t you supposed to be the impulsive one? 

You paused mid-sentence as you turned to look at him, puffing out your chest meanwhile. “Since they asked me to be their bridesmaid.” You were taking it very seriously! “Of _ course _I would put some thought into my actions.” If only you did that for the rest of your existence, and you would have found your transition into the daily life of Hell to be that much smoother.

Easier said than done.

“You do realize that if it’s a public affair, Hell’s most powerful residents would attend?” Alastor inquired, raising a brow. “And you’re worried about their safety? No, no, no, they will be absolutely fine! I think it’s a grand idea!” He turned to look back to Vaggie and Charlie, removing his hand from your thigh to curl his fingers together in the ‘boss’ type of appearance. 

Arms resting on the table, fingers interlaced, yeah, you know the one.

“Now, who’s catering?” 

What an entertaining way to get the public invested! So many things that could go wrong! 

Slowly, you reached back and grabbed the muffin again before taking a bite out of it. It wasn’t stale, thankfully. Most of the goods down here weren’t the best in terms of being refrigerated or even being put in the proper temperatures or packaging, so you often got what you got. Thankfully, Alastor either knew exactly where to get the best or simply stole it out of someone else’s pantry, which was something that you wouldn’t even be surprised to learn at this point.

You found yourself falling into a train of thought as you quietly ate away, your worries manifesting into silent questions and concerns. You had never considered yourself to be special when it came to relationships; you tried your best and hoped through trial and error that you would learn to do the right thing. It wasn’t that you were caught off guard by learning that Alastor actually cared very little about the residents of the hotel but to the point of threatening to dispose of them if they had gotten in his way?

As much as you tried, you couldn’t comprehend his way of thinking, his skewed morals while you clung to your humanity desperately. 

It was your last lifeline before you spiraled completely out of control. Your humanity, at least what was still preserved through the limited memory and morals you still had, was the last thing you had of your past life. It was the only thing that was familiar to you in a world of unknown treachery and horror. As Alastor had said, this place had really been a safe haven for you. You hadn’t really encountered any real danger in your time down here (not that you were eager to, or anything) and you had yet to see how _ dangerous _it could be.

While you slept peacefully, the denizens of Hell often had to sleep with one eye open.

A wheeling and screeching sound pulled you out of your thoughtful reverie, your attention being turned to the swing door of the kitchen that had now begun to slow from the sudden release of force. You weren’t really sure how to react when you were met with a scrap-metal, hastily put together, four-wheeled robot scanning the room for something. Or so you assumed by the red light that doused specific things that it grabbed with one clawed hand. It was a bit off-putting, seeing it grab different cook-books off of the shelf before dropping them carelessly onto the floor - the googly eyes stamped onto it didn’t help much, either. 

It was small, probably closest to Niffy’s small stature. Each book it scanned before dropping would be met with an obnoxiously loud beep that you could only assume was rejection. You were so hyper-focused on the robot that you hadn’t even noticed that Critter had been scampering behind it, teething at the metal and leaving dents in some places, and scratches in others; all tied together with a slathering of alligator saliva. The perfect recipe for disaster.

“What is that?” You questioned aloud, watching with a mixture of intrigue and uncertainty as it turned around and started rolling towards the… book on the table. Your book. You would have let it take it, only to drop it, but when it picked it up and let out a robotic chirp of approval: “Stolen item located. Returning.” Before turning to roll away, you snapped your arm forward to grab the book back. 

“HEY! That’s mine!” 

Your fingers danced across the metal for a moment, and in that millisecond you could only witness as a bunch of shocks ran up and down the robot’s joints and inner workings. 

“_Error. Error. Error. Electrical complication. Please repair. Shutting down.” _

You paused as the contraption shakily twitched, hinges creaking, before going silent. It was still holding the book. 

“Uh?” 

Did you just do something, or..? Either way, you never thought you would wrestle a robot for a book, but here you were trying to get it’s clamped grabby-things to unhinge. 

Charlie sighed.

“Baxter doesn’t like to leave his lab, so he sends these instead.” She grabbed the book from its little robotic hands and placed it back in your hands. “Don’t worry about it!” 

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like that _ thing._” He hissed out the word through clenched teeth. 

“To be fair, you don’t like anything electrical,” Vaggie commented. 

Like two siblings, the two of them began to banter and bicker back and forth as your attention was solely focused on your hands as the robot released smoke from between gears. Did you… electrocute it somehow? You scrunched your eyebrows together as you turned your attention back to Critter who now tried to consume the contraption. Oh, he was probably hungry. “Critter.” You cooed softly as you pushed the chair out and rounded the table to the kitchen. 

Throughout your trek to the refrigerator, you found yourself falling into confusion with what the hell you just did and how you could do it again. Curling your fingers around the handle, you brought your other hand up and snapped. Nothing happened. You sighed and turned your thoughts back to what was more dire - you had to feed the growing alligator. Pulling open the door, you sorted through the containers and different condiments to grab a t-bone steak that would… probably last him a whole of two minutes.

Turning around, you kneeled down and offered the meat to him. Eventually, he would probably be able to eat a whole rotisserie chicken without even blinking, but for right now, what you had would do just fine. “Well, Baxter sounds like a ray of sunshine.” You muttered beneath your breath as you tossed the meat to Critter, before placing your hands on your knees to help you up. It seemed like the hotel had changed a lot in the week you had been gone.

Honestly, it felt so much longer- almost like months had passed.

Strolling back over to the group as Critter munched down on his meal, happily chirruping all the while, you sat back down next to Alastor and gently placed your hand on his own thigh, if only to offer comfort to him in the way he had done for you. You were home now, that was all that mattered, and it looked like the two of you had a whole lot of catching up to do. 

“Well, Charlie and I have some planning to do and I emailed you,” Vaggie turned her head towards you. “To look over a few of the new flyer designs, fine-tune them, make them pretty.” She rolled her eyes slightly on the last words as Charlie beamed happily. 

Charlie bounced a bit in her seat, spreading her arms out across the table with a light slap. “Everything is going so well!” 

Alastor rose a slightly amused brow at the princess before turning back to you, turning his palm upward in order to hold your hand proper. 

“So, how’s some demon training sound, my little sharkling?” 

You found yourself nodding at the two of them before you looked back up to Alastor. Training. Training sounded good. It would also help you with figuring out what the fuck just happened. “Sure.”

And you were eager to prove him wrong, because deep down inside, you _ knew _ there was more to your transformation than what originally met the eye. 

Nevertheless, after he took your hand, it didn’t take very long for you two to reach the hallway.

The two of you had been on your way to the parking lot - a place that was generally empty but with enough space to accommodate a training session when you felt the static lap at your skin, something that had brought you distress in your earlier weeks, but now only brought comfort. His close proximity was welcome, and you discovered that not only did it soothe your anxieties, but your rampage of thoughts as well. If there was one thing you learned, it was that being left to your thoughts frequently had dire consequences. 

But for the moment, you were focused on something in particular. The robot had chimed in (rather rudely, in your opinion) that the very book that had not only offered you information on fauna and flora of the different environments down here in Hell- but also somehow triggered a memory which was rare unto itself, was stolen. Which… probably wasn’t much of a crime down here like it was on Earth, but you still had morals. The only one that could possibly understand your plight was Charlie, and even then you doubted that she was as innocent as she seemed.

Sure she had given you hospitality, advice, a whole god damn reason to try to survive down here, but she had been raised by Lucifer. An entity that Alastor had kindly reminded you was far stronger than he let on, which was something that you had sort of forgotten when face to face with him. It was hard to take him seriously when he was around your height and dressed like he owned a circus. And what was his deal with apples? 

Honestly, you weren’t getting into conspiracy theories right now. 

Alastor, who had patiently led you outside turned around on the dime when he noticed you had started to walk slower than his ridiculously exuberant fast-paced style, even while connected to his arm, which he absolutely insisted on you doing. It was charming, it made him happy, so who were you to decline the offer of an escort? 

“Darling, are you paying attention?”

“Huh?”

You snapped out of it as you were unceremoniously thrown into reality once more. You had found yourself to be lost in thought more often than not, and when that happened, you had the tendency to move and react with the assistance of autopilot… Which just so happened to be the main reason as to why Alastor had noticed in the first place. Or at least, one of the reasons. He was awfully observant you had come to find, but this time it had been how you had nearly slammed into the back of a parked car that set off his metaphorical radar. 

You blinked, and then side-stepped. 

Whoops.

“Welcome back to reality, sweetheart, but as I was saying…” Alastor twirled his microphone masterfully as he hummed a thoughtful note. “If you want to harness your true power, you need to be able to focus for more than a few minutes. It takes determination, desire, _ gusto _ to be able to really tune into yourself! Which you, my dear,“ he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, “have been lacking.” 

“But-“

“But!” He tapped you on the nose playfully. “Do not fret! You see, I have just the thing!” His grin lit up his entire face as he took a step back, adjusted his bow tie, and tilted his microphone towards an empty lot. You raised a singular eyebrow as you watched time itself warp into something that could have very well been a black hole, but the real gravity of the situation didn’t have time to catch up with you because once he stuck his hand into the void, it was gone. The moment after it reemerged he held a book in his hands, skimming through the pages as if nothing had ever happened.

You were left scrunching your face. Slowly but surely, you made your way to duck beneath his arm so that you could read what he was reading. You weren’t all that intrigued by the details of it, not that you had been given the chance to be, but that wasn’t the point because the first thing you noticed was that the handwriting was identical to the ‘stolen’ book. So of course, you had begun to put two and two together. “Where did you get the book?”

“Pardon?”

“The book.” You looked up to him then with an accusatory expression. “Where’d you get it?” 

Alastor didn’t spare you a glance, continuing to read through whatever contents had his utmost attention at the moment. “I hardly think that it matters,” he finally replied, completely content with having you in his personal space while he soaked up the information that he would eventually bestow upon you. “Ah yes! Here it is- look!” 

He shoved the book down to your level, pointing at the words as he read them aloud. “Right here, darling! It says that the easiest way to come into your full power without the element of stress is to have something to focus on. Goodness, if you are able to do that, who knows what supreme potential you’d possess!” He chimed with a complete vigor that he seemed to be missing at the cabin.

It took you a moment to realize what exactly he was doing and why he was acting so differently compared to then, but when you met the glances of demons passing by on the pavement, you knew _ exactly _ the reason. He was the Radio Demon, and there were eyes _ everywhere. _Even with his lover, he wasn’t one to abandon the title and what preposterous claims it came with - he was a charmer, that was for damn sure. Now that he wasn’t in the solitude of his home, he had to put on a facade. It wasn’t as simple as just one day deciding to be himself and not the power-hungry lunatic that posters, signs, and most dangerous of all: word of mouth, claimed him to be. In fact, it was a way of survival.

After all, he had rivals.

But that still didn’t excuse his behavior and yes, while his morals were skewered, that didn’t mean yours were. 

“Okay, so… why didn’t it work last time? I focused on your voice.” You questioned with knitted brows. “I was able to pay attention, but then I started thinking again and I broke my focus.” You were humoring him for the moment, but what you were really focusing on was the book. 

“Yes, but my voice is not a physical object,” Alastor replied in affirmation, before placing the book down on the hood of a car. “My microphone is, however!” He explained, pointing towards it. “It is an entity unto itself, while also being a part of me.” He placed the staff onto the ground while his clawed hand rested atop it to balance it. 

“What’s that mean?” You leaned in to inspect it. For the moment, the book was forgotten because this was the second time you had even been able to get close to the instrument. “It’s an entity but it’s also you?” There were a whole lot of mysteries in this world, and you weren’t sure if you had the mental capacity to understand the finite details. 

“It means,” he tapped it once, and suddenly there was a large, bulbous eye staring directly back at you. It’s pupil even adjusted in accordance to the lighting, which you would have found interesting if you hadn’t flinched back so fast that you nearly lost your balance. Thankfully, Alastor was there to grab your wrist and steady you. “That it’s connected to me. I am the base of its power. Without me, it is _ useless _.”

“Gee, thanks, Bossman.” 

Your attention which had been flickering between Alastor and the microphone snapped to stare at the eye which was now narrowed. Did that… thing just _ talk _? Before you could question it, Alastor tilted the microphone back to peer down at it, his lips stretched into an amused grin. 

“Nice of you to join us!” He bantered with a haughty laugh. “Tell me, good friend, are the guests treating you well?” 

_ Guests? _

The eye lit up, and with that came the live feedback of the screams of the damned. Or at least, that’s all you could really compare it to; nothing would come close in actuality to how blood-curdling and spine-tingling it had been. But just as quick, you were greeted with radio feedback and then finally silence. Alastor, dramatic as always, wiped away a stray tear that wasn’t there to begin with.

“That was music to my ears! Absolutely breathtaking!” He praised, while the lower eyelid of the microphone rounded up to appear amused.

“Horrifying.” You said at last, and their attention fell to you. You felt goosebumps running up and down your arms, legs, and everywhere else practically. “So… you were saying?” You weren’t sure who to focus on at this point. It felt rude to completely ignore the microphone especially now that it was apparently sentient, but you were a lot more comfortable with Alastor. Except it was him? 

You were confused.

“How rude of me. Dear, this is my microphone.” The microphone in question lit up again, and for a moment you feared to hear the same sound - but all that greeted you was a low electrical hum. It was almost like it was saying ‘yes that’s me’ without actually saying anything. “You’ve been acquainted before, a few months back if I recall correctly.” Alastor continued. “Though I don’t believe you’ve met face to… eye.” A single ‘ha’ filled the vicinity, and because of it being contagious, you couldn’t help but laugh softly. Though, the eye almost appeared offended. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you.” You were always so quick to try to patch up mistakes.

“Oh no, no, you’re quite fine, darling. It just has _ body _issues.” Alastor quickly butt in before the microphone had the chance to respond. 

You tossed a concerned glance to it. Alastor sometimes had the tendency to be unnecessarily cruel, but this was something that you didn’t quite understand. Especially since they had been two peas in a pod for far longer than you could comprehend. Perhaps it was just being dramatic.

Its response only solidified the hypothesis.

“I’m offended that I have to be seen with him at times. Woe is me.” The microphone replied with the most lackluster tone you had heard anyone, ever, muster. You probably would have found comfort in the presence of the instrument a few months back if you had known it was like this. 

You had a weird sense of humor.

Once Alastor was done with his laughing fit at his own absolutely awful joke, he waved his hand and you slowly looked back up to him. “As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “We are two different individuals, but it gets complicated when it comes to terms of sentience. It cannot be away from me.”

“What happens if it does?”

“Would you like to see?” 

You blinked between them owlishly, before your curiosity began to manifest itself into giddiness. Did you want to experiment? _ Hell yes. _“What do I do?”

“Take ahold of it,” Alastor murmured gently, urging you to take the staff as he transferred the weight to you. You nearly dropped it from the weight of it, but you managed to regain your balance after a moment. The thing was a lot heavier than it looked. “Now, I’ll stay here while you start walking away.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do I get any say in this?” 

You looked down at the microphone in question who was now looking between the two of you rapidly. Uncertain, you looked up to Alastor who waved you off. 

“It’ll be fine. Go on now.”

As you started walking away, you began to inspect the microphone in your grip. It was staring directly at you the entire time, and you felt increasingly vulnerable under the intensity of its gaze. It didn’t seem malicious, but instead grumpy, perhaps even a bit curious. It kind of reminded you of Husk, minus the slurs. This wasn’t Alastor, but instead its own… person? It was difficult to understand. 

But just as you began to fill the silence with your ideas, it began to talk. 

“Watch the car.”

And it didn’t stop.

“You’re going to trip over the rock.”

“There’s a crack in the pavement, don’t fall.”

“I bet you a dime that one of your shoelaces are untied.”

You stopped to look down. They were tied.

“Ha! Made you look!” The eyelid was rounded again.

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose. “Why are you like this?”

“Because you hold the power of the world in your hands.” The microphone stated.

Oh, it had a massive ego, too. Amazing.

“Oh, so I better not… Drop-” You dropped the microphone into your other hand which you had lowered below it, catching it without fault. A radio screech was there to cushion the fall. “-you then!” See, you could be a little shit, too. Take that, annoying prick on a stick. 

“You’re not funny.” The grumpy tone was back.

“Alastor thinks I am.” You replied with a confidence that you didn’t normally possess.

“Well, that’s because he loves you. A man will always tell his lover that they’re beautiful even if they don’t really think it. It’s the art of charm!”

“You’re aggravating.” 

“I’ll give you this- you’re fun to aggravate. So expressive!” 

You walked in silence for a few more yards before you felt static begin to lap at your skin. Only then did you pay mind to the microphone again. But when you did look down, the eye was gone and you were left to face a regular looking microphone. You frowned, before tapping it. 

“Hello?”

Nothing.

You walked a few more feet, this time tentatively watching the entire process unfold right before your eyes. Slowly, the microphone paint began to chip away before… glitching out. Oh, it was gone. You looked at your hands as if you had somehow absorbed it, but when you looked behind you, you found that Alastor was standing with the microphone back in his grip again.

It didn’t take you long to return to him.

“So, how’d it go?”

“It just disappears!” You gasped excitedly, looking back at the microphone that was now magically in his grasp. 

Alastor almost looked amused at your reaction to something so mundane in his existence. “That would be correct! The microphone is a way for me to pinpoint precise powers,” he bent down, “a feat that is rarely known. Which is precisely why I was so eager to get my hands on that particular book, by the way.” He grinned boyishly down at you before returning to his regular position, and with a wave of his hand, the microphone disappeared as well. 

“Which I believe will help you.” Alastor continued. “Your power is far too intense for the beginning stages of your training, my dear. The objects don’t need to be sentient. Just something for you to be able to feel and connect with. In my opinion, it will make the process that easier on your precious form.” A coo as he reached down to push a strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his hand with a small smile which only solidified the fact that it was true. You weren’t the most intimidating creature.

You were too sweet for that title.

“So how does that work?” You murmured into his hand, closing your eyes at the texture of his glove. It was cool against your skin, and you found yourself particularly pleased with that. 

“You need to find something that you feel a connection to in some way.” Alastor explained gently, which was a rarity unto itself. But when it came to you, it was a common occurrence. You felt his thumb roll against your cherub cheeks in tandem with his thoughts. “I will happily be able to assist you if you wish.” But you always liked doing things the _ natural _ way. Disgusting. He didn’t understand.

But you could surprise him when you so chose. “Sure. You probably have a better idea of what to look for than me,” you kissed his palm then, “my love.” You let yourself return to your regular position. “But no stealing.” 

Alastor rose an eyebrow as he watched you walk over to the car with the book on it.

“Which I’m pretty sure you did with the book right here,” you grabbed it off of the roof, before pointing to the one laying on the step. “And right there.” 

“Stealing?” Alastor inquired with a tilt of his head. 

You gave him a look.

“I assume you mean _ borrowing _, no?” 

“When were you going to return it?” 

He let out a hoot of laughter. “Don’t be preposterous, sweetheart! You know I would eventually plan to return it to Baxter. Ah yes, he’s an odd one, isn’t he? He probably already replaced it with more notes!” 

You squinted. “Alastor.”

“Yes?” He almost looked caught in a crime.

“When were you going to return it?”

“... Never.” 

_ “Al!” _

“Darling, he’s going to be down here for eternity anyways! He has more than enough time to rewrite it trillions of times!” He tried his best to excuse his behavior, to no avail. 

You let your hand slap against the front of your face before sliding down with a groan. “You can’t just… steal things!” Weren’t there any laws down here!?

No.

No there weren’t.

But still, it’s a matter of principle!

Alastor sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “I _ suppose _ it’s only fair,” his nose scrunched up as if the word ‘fair’ was a dastardly phrase, “to return the _ borrowed _goods.” And then just as you were about to praise him for rectifying the situation, he continued. “Which is why I’m honoring you with the task, my sweet sharkling!” He grinned. 

“Wait, what?”

“I am a very busy man, you see, and I can’t possibly be bothered with such… activities. That being said, I have much to do, much to see, demons to maim, deals to be made,” he leaned down and grabbed your hand, only to kiss it. 

And then he disappeared.

Did he just do that to get out of dealing with the consequences? 

Yes, yes he did.

You sighed and turned towards the porch, before walking into the hotel. He was honestly so ridiculous sometimes, but you couldn’t say you didn’t love him for it.

Because you did. 


	69. Do You Smell Fish Sticks?

This was ridiculous.

What was ridiculous wasn’t the fact that you had to return the books (though you wouldn’t condone Alastor’s actions, he had the tendency to be childish when it came to certain things - you weren’t any better, though) but the fact that you also had to haul this…  _ contraption  _ of Baxter’s up the stairs, wheel it down the hallway, break for a moment to catch your breath because  _ good god  _ were you out of shape, and continue the process. You had shocked it out of self-defense and instinct, not that it had even gone after you but it was still something that you had done. 

_ Had _ .

Coincidentally and as fate had it, the author of the book had somehow wound up in the hotel despite having had the opportunity of being anywhere besides here. How many circles of Hell were there again? Nine? Honestly, anywhere else but here! It wasn’t that you minded, but you wanted to continue reading the book without the guilt slowly poisoning your mind from the inside out. The fact that it was stolen made you bitter, because let’s face it, you were still getting used to the whole ‘I’m a bad person and this world is full of bad people’ shtick. It was harder than it looked.

Especially since you were naturally… good? You considered yourself to be good, but perhaps that was just your ego speaking. You just weren’t good enough for Heaven, but honestly? Maybe that was for the best. It didn’t really make sense for entities of higher power, of the greater good, to come down from what was essentially ‘God’s undying love’ to mutilate and murder demons. Sure, they were demons, but you were one too. They weren’t  _ all  _ that bad. You and many others were living proof of that. 

The reason? To lower the population.

But in an ever-expanding void of matter, why in the world would there need to be a need to ‘exterminate’? The first idea that came to your mind was the fact that exterminators often killed off pests that invaded houses, and if that was even remotely close to what was truly going on here - how were they better than anyone else? 

You had so many theories and an eternity to spend picking your brain apart for the hell of it, but just as you were about to go into another internal tangent, a rumble got your attention. Pausing, you looked behind you to the origin of the sound, to which nothing greeted you until you looked  _ down.  _ There was Critter, smacking his tail against the floor and gazing up at you like he had just won the unannounced game of hide and seek. A second wave of guilt washed over you as you positioned the robot so it wouldn’t fall over.

Gently, you turned around and kneeled down, to which the juvenile alligator scampered over to you with a speed that didn’t match his physical appearance. 

“It’s been a bit, huh, bud?” Your voice was quiet as you rested on your knees. How long had it been since you had one-on-one time with him? Your eyes softened as you inhaled a great bout of breath, observing how he leaned into your lap and rested his head atop your legs. Did you look like a fool sitting in the middle of the hallway petting what was now nearly a three-foot alligator? Probably.

Did you care?

Absolutely fucking not.

You were slowly beginning to understand the importance in some parts of your existence, and how other things simply didn’t matter. It was a lesson that you had been gradually learning, but as you sat here, listening to the intricate rumblings of said creature, it was being kicked into high gear. “I’m sorry for not paying attention to you.” 

Critter didn’t respond in a way you could understand verbally, a series of clicks and hisses that could have very well been mistaken for an animalistic and not intelligent reply. The weight against your legs increased as the eyes, which had expanded in red vibrancy due to the shadows on the walls, closed. It was interesting, if not a bit haunting. 

You knew you had responsibilities, it was a pestering voice in the back of your head that you had to finish this up despite your desires telling you no, you could stay like this for as long as you wanted. You did not have death awaiting you, after all. Pressing your hand against the smooth scales, easing up on pressure against the eyes, you began to notice just how many more there were now. Where there once had only been a handful, decorating mostly around his main ones upon his face were now beginning to travel down the sides of his body. He was growing up.

“You’re getting so big,” you murmured gently, leaning down to press a kiss to his snout. A chirrup answered you, similar to when he had only been but a hatchling, beckoning for a mother that hadn’t been there. Running your hand against his stubby spines that were growing by the day, you pushed yourself up and stretched. “Which means you can’t make snacks out of robots… But you probably did that to tell me you were hungry. Hm.” A finger found its way to your chin as you thought. 

Eventually, he would need to hunt for himself.

Critter stared at you with what you could only assume was a curious expression, head tilted to the right as his eyes blinked collectively. As you rested your elbow atop the robot, you finally came to the decision of: 

“How about we ask Alastor to add some more creatures in his swamp so you can eat whenever you want?”

Immediate tail slapping… and was he nodding his head to you?

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you laughed. “But first I have to take this to Baxter. I wonder which room he’s in...” 

Slowly, Critter came over towards the robot, inhaling and exhaling in puffs of air in the areas he could reach. At first, you were wholly confused, your eyebrows knitted together as you took a step away to give him more room to do whatever he was doing. And then, at the moment of him visibly perking up before moving into the opposite direction of where you had been going, you realized exactly what had happened: he had a scent. Of course Baxter had a scent. 

Were tracker alligators a thing?

Guess they are now.

Turning the robot around, you followed after the alligator, his eyes that were positioned atop his shoulder blades flickering back to make sure you were still following, or so you assumed. Of course you were, and soon enough, just down the hallway, you began to hear  _ things.  _ Things that you must have missed in the wake of your thoughts.

“Oh.” 

He stopped at a door that had burn marks coming from the crevices, and it smelled  _ heavily  _ of chemicals and products that you couldn’t have missed even if you tried. But you had. Crazy how the brain worked. And was that fish? You crinkled your nose before bending down to pat Critter’s head in a silent thanks. Before you could begin to right yourself, the sound of a chainsaw started up, and then maniacal laughter that could have only belonged to…

A mad scientist.

Steeling your nerves, you raised your fist and knocked on the door. The laughter didn’t stop, the screeching of the weapon being used on something increasing in volume. Critter and you shared a glance, before you slammed your fist as hard as you could into the door, multiple times (and enough to probably give you a few bruises); only coming to a stop once the individual behind the door silenced his work. 

And silence there was.

Hesitantly, you lowered your hand and began to rub the pain away. Something was being moved, and then there was grumbling and… locks being unlocked. For a moment you wondered if he would even open the door in the first place, but as luck had it, he did. And by that, you meant in the creepiest fashion ever. Because there he was, a single eye peeking out at you through the slit of the now open door. That eye squinted before he opened it a bit more.

“Think you might have the wrong door.”

From the minimal amount that you could see him, you noted the fact that there was a dim light coming for  _ somewhere  _ above him, and, if the shadows weren’t playing tricks on you, he had a blue complexion, blue sclera paired with red eyes, and a pair of safety goggles. His voice was scratchy from all the maniacal laughter, and he was a lot shorter than you imagined him to be. Finally, someone that suffered just like you did in a world that was made for tall people.

“Um, no, I don’t think so.” Considering the fact that the room was so remote that you had even contemplated whether or not it existed. You watched as his attention fell onto the machine behind you, his pupils constricting as he apparently came to the conclusion as to why you were really here.

“Are you Baxt-”

“What did you dO TO MY MACHINE!?” With how quickly he yanked open the door, you barely had time to process what the hell was going on.

So naturally, you went on the defensive.

“Nothing!”

He was inspecting it like it was his child, narrowly dodging you to make sure you didn’t touch him. There were grumbles and mumbles being released, near-silent curses that you were pretty damn sure were directed to you as he tapped in places that you assumed had some kind of meaningful purpose. 

“Really? Then how do you explain this?” He pressed a button and the entire thing came undone, sparking, and smoking. Your entire expression dropped. “This will cost me precious time that I don’t have!” You had never seen someone look so visibly distressed over something so mundane. 

Seriously, the thing looked like it was constructed out of scrap metal obtained from a junkyard. 

“It wasn’t really my fault,” you crossed your arms, the books awkwardly wedged into the creases of the other side of your elbows. “I did it accidentally and honestly, I’m only here to return these books that Alastor stole from you, but I didn’t know it was stolen until your robot tried to steal it back, so who’s  _ really  _ in the wrong!?” 

He was staring at you like you were the most idiotic creature on the planet, and in that moment, you agreed with him. Baxter turned his attention to the books in your grasp, his hands suddenly motioning wildly towards them as if he wasn’t even sure how to express what he was thinking.

“Aren’t they  _ my  _ books!?” He settled, before releasing a ‘gah’ and slapping his gloved hand to his forehead. Pressing another button that was out of view, the robot put itself back together again and he wheeled it into his room. Once it was in a safe place, he came back, ripped the books out of your hand in one swift motion and started to flip each of them to the first page where low and behold:

“Does this not say ‘Baxter’? Am I not Baxter!?” He motioned angrily.

“I don’t know! You didn’t answer my question! Are you Baxter!?” You yelled back, stomping your foot. 

He stared at you with a frown, his lip twitching before he let out a loud groan. “Yes, I am.” And then he began to shut the door.

“HEY, WAIT!” Immediately, you slammed your foot in between the crack of the door before realizing what exactly you were doing. “Wait, wait, okay- I feel really stupid, I mean. Fuck, I’m not the best at first impressions-” You felt the door being forcefully shut now, but you managed to push more of your weight onto it to forbid that from happening. 

“But I read your book and I think you could help me!”

At that moment, to help out his Small Big One, Critter moseyed in and wedged himself between the door as a makeshift door stopper. And when he did, he released chirrups in various volumes in accordance with how the Small Big One was speaking. He looked up at the angler demon that was now staring at him with an intrigued expression.

From the other side of the door: “Is that a  _ Daemonis Alligatordae _ ?” 

“Uh.” You looked down at Critter. “That’s what he is, yeah?” You were still currently forcing the door open still, but now with more urgency because if he closed it, he would absolutely crush Critter. 

“I’ve only ever seen one of them around here, where in the nine circles did you find him? He looks quite healthy which is a rarity, not dehydrated or famished, look at those scales! Rather young-” 

“Well maybe if you opened the  _ door _ , you could see more of him!”

“Unlike most of the idiots in Hell, I will be spoken to  _ without _ that condescending tone.” 

You accidentally stumbled in when the force was let go, slamming onto the floor in a heap. With a grunt, you lifted yourself half-way up and rubbed your head (which had unfortunately thumped hard against the wooden floor). With a grumpy frown, you hissed out and got back up. 

“Fucking  _ ow.” _

“Well, no one said I was nice, but you’re welcome.” Grabbing  _ his _ book from the table and pulling out a pen, Baxter began taking some notes on Critter, occasionally muttering to himself about the new data. Only after a minute did he turn around and paused in his movements. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“What?”

“Your ears, they're different. You can’t seriously tell me you didn’t notice.“

“ _ What?” _

Immediately you began to inspect them, and only then realized what was going on once you felt the webbed cartilage. “Oh, this.” Well, actually, that hadn’t happened before. You had been able to transform into the form fully, but never specific traits. “This… doesn’t usually happen.”

Baxter readjusted his glasses to fit on the ridge of where his nose would be. “So a demon who’s out of tune with her own body.” He muttered, tapping the tip of the pen against the spine of the book absentmindedly. 

“So... are you gonna just stare at me or are you going to help me figure this,” you pointed at your ears, “out?”

Currently, in the mind of the mad scientist, Baxter was already weighing the pros and cons of the situation. If he were to say no, he would risk losing the potential data on both Critter and you. But if he were to...  _ help, _ he’d gain knowledge about two very strange specimens. Needless to say, that was enough to peak his interests. While you remained rooted to the spot, he took a step closer to observe you.

“Well, it seems like the intermediate layers between your transformation and regular conformation have fluctuations in the pattern.” He paused as he watched your ears revert back to normal, subconsciously. “Which is unheard of, to say the least.” 

Your expression blanked. “What.”

Baxter frowned. “Your transformation is being controlled by two specific layers of your being, your natural form, and your demon form.” He said it at a snail’s pace as if you were a toddler. “It’s not normal to have a loss of control between the two, even for new demons.”

“You don’t have to talk to me like I can’t understand, I’m not an idiot. I just don’t know what you mean with all the big science terms you use.”

“You could have fooled me.” 

It was your turn to frown. “You’re not nice.”

At this point, Baxter genuinely became amused, which was definitely a first. “I’m sure we established that before you stuck your foot in between my door.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have closed it on me.” You crossed your arms with a huff. You looked down to Critter who now laid his head atop your shoes, grumbling and staring at Baxter all the while like some sort of guard dog. 

“Well, maybe if people didn’t take things that weren’t theirs you wouldn’t have to deal with this conversation, now would you?”

“ _ WELL-”  _ you paused. “Actually you’re right. Fair point.” You huffed. “You got me there.” Shaking your head, you added: “But that doesn’t matter anymore. You have your book, and I need help.” 

If you needed to get serious, you would. “Listen, I can transform into my demon form- usually when there’s adrenaline involved. But I can’t normally do it on the whim.” 

“Normal.”

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, what  _ isn’t _ normal is that I feel like there’s more to it. Like it’s… not my final form? I don’t know.” You looked at him and saw that he looked mildly interested,  _ mildly.  _ He didn’t seem to care otherwise, but you were desperate. It was like an itch you couldn’t find and scratch. 

Desperate times called for drastic measures.

“If you help me, I’ll… do you a favor.” 

A favor- now that was enough to really _ reel _ him in. “What kind of favor could you offer me?”

You were stumped. “I don’t know. What do you want?”

His eyes lit up, and he didn’t miss a beat: “A lab. Nothing more, nothing less. I need a place to conduct my experiments and that’s impossible in this tiny room.”

It wasn’t tiny to you, but okay.

“And… you’ll help me figure out what’s wrong with me?”

He nodded, the tiny bulb above his head bobbing for a minute. “You get me a lab, and I’ll make sure we figure you out.”

“Okay.” How you were going to do it, you didn’t know. 

Baxter let out a devious smile, something that instilled a sense of uneasiness within you. When you looked down to his outstretched hand and frowned inwardly to yourself, you noticed out of your peripherals the increasing luminescence of the bulb atop his head. You knew you were going to regret this. This was stupid. But you couldn’t stop your hand, because the next moment, you grabbed it and shook. 

“It looks like we have ourselves a deal.” The light faded away and Baxter took his hand back and began rubbing it with a disgusted look on his face, on his jacket, everywhere. Even if he had a glove on, it didn’t matter. 

“Guess so...” and now your mind was racing with how the hell you were going to hold up your end of the bargain.

“Now get out.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

“Out. I have work to do.” He shooed you off and began to turn back around to his desk. 

“... Right. Thanks.” 

He ignored you as you picked up Critter and then escaped from the room, leaving you with one rather important hurdle:

How the _ fuck _ were you meant to get a lab?


	70. This Is Why I Don't Socialize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains explicit sexual content that isn't suitable for minors.

It was easy enough to convince Alastor to give Critter a bigger ecosystem to explore - in  _ fact,  _ it was particularly interesting to see different fauna spontaneously appear out of what could have been thin air. But because it was  _ Alastor _ , he of course had to make a grand show out of it. 

From the cells, to the muscle, ligaments, bone, skin, fur, or scales, you saw it all. Creatures that were predatory and not for meals, but instead to practice the young alligator’s offenses and defenses immediately flourished throughout the entirety of the swamp. Birds with multiple rows of teeth, standing multiple feet high, frogs that had literal claws and poison that seeped out of their flesh. Bats with numerous wings, fish that no doubt would offer a more dangerous place to inhabit, crayfish, snails, and a whole bunch of other mammals and invertebrates that Critter could feast on. 

Critter slapped his tail against the ground, a feat that he often did in bouts of excitement. He looked up at you and Alastor as if to say something along the lines of ‘look at this!’, as you couldn’t understand his series of clicks and hisses. Alastor, however, could.

“Go on then!” He encouraged.

And that was the easy part.

Now you were trying to convince him to give you the lab.

“Come on, please?”

“You see, the thing I’m not understanding is why you would even need a lab in the first place, dear.” 

Alastor re-positioned his monocle as he leaned back into his chair. The two of you had found yourselves in his room, the musty fog drifting from the swamp that was located off to the side that was a lot louder now. The demon had his knees crossed in a lounging manner, a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other; attention wavering between you and whatever story he found utterly irresistible and impossible to put down for the moment. 

You exhaled in exasperation.

“You’ll think it’s stupid!” 

He made a face. “Anything involving you? I most certainly think not!” Alastor hummed, bringing the cup to his lips without a care in the world. “Besides,” finally, he closed the book and placed it off to the side. “I have told you countless times that I would help you with whatever it was you desired, but it’s a tricky process getting involved in a deal-“ he looked down to your hands, “-you made a deal, no?” 

“... Sort of.” You cringed. “He made the deal with me, I just agreed to it and… maybe sort of put the idea in his head.” Rubbing your arm, you transitioned your weight onto your other leg. 

“Regardless. As I was saying, it’s a tricky process to get involved in other deal-makers matters.” He observed your expression, before reaching up to pinch your cheek in an endearing (and annoying) manner. “Which is  _ why _ , my precious sharkling,” his voice adopted a ‘baby tone’ that made you want to smack his hand away. “-We don’t go around making deals when we’re physically incapable of following through with them!” Before you could interject, he held up a finger. 

“However, it’s not impossible.  _ Especially  _ for me!” His grin widened a fraction, adopting more of a mischievous undertone. 

Which was generally dangerous when it came to Alastor. But when it was in the presence of you, you had the understanding that it lacked the usual maliciousness behind his intentions. Though as much as you loved him, he was still an enigma that you would never fully understand, no matter how much he told you. You were growing to accept that, slowly; but as with everything, it was a process.

If you had the option of learning everything about him, you wouldn’t. It ruined the mystery that he eternally carried with him, subconscious or not - and that opinion surprised you the most. You were beginning to settle into a more… confident version of yourself, and you supposed that had to do with the amount of trust the two of you allotted to each other.

“So, you’ll help me?” Your eyes lit up, a wave of relief washing over you.

A sharp nod. Always the charming gentleman. 

Alastor then set his coffee and book down, snapped them away out of existence, and stood up. There was a pause in his step as he moved to flatten his suit jacket that had managed to crumple up. With a flare that only Alastor could manifest, he turned to you, twirling his microphone skillfully. “Now then, why don’t you tell me what this ‘deal’ you made consists of? Who was it with?” His actions were absolutely exuberant, his excitement contagious. 

He probably thought you were getting into a new hobby.

“Heh, well,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “It was with Baxter.” And then to rip the band-aid off: “He said he would help me figure out what was going on with,” you motioned to your body, “this.” 

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is wrong with  _ this?” _

Immediately he began to walk around you in a circle, inspecting you like you were some broken toy. He lifted your arms, your legs, lifting up your shirt to inspect your skin, and you let him do it all, all while trying to explain to the best of your ability while he interrogated you. “Did he hurt you?”

Thank Lucifer he didn’t because if he had, oh boy. He would be gone. Adios. Up in smoke. Baxter? Who’s he? If anything had ever happened to you, Alastor himself would set Hell on fire; literally instead of figuratively. They would all have a reason to burn, those pathetic fools that roamed the streets. Disgusting vermin. The only purpose they served him was the possibility of deals and the entertainment of unsuspecting individuals. What a gas!

“No,” you said quickly. You watched with a faint amusement as he continued to look over you with an intensity that couldn’t be rivaled. He was really protective over you, apparently. It was endearing, to say the least. 

“Well, I don’t see anything wrong!” 

You reached over to grasp his hand in yours to stop him from continuing to poke and prod you. “Relax, Al.” He paused in his efforts and met your gaze. “I’m not hurt.” You assured, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles comfortingly. “What I meant was…” How could you put it into words that you thought Baxter had more experience in demon forms than Alastor did, and probably was a better teacher than him without saying all of that because there was a  _ slight  _ possibility you would hurt his feelings? 

Everything was so complicated.

“I wanted to learn about my demon form, and since you don’t believe me in regards to me saying there’s ‘more’, because there is, I feel it—”

“Phonus balonus! I never said that!” 

You stared up at him with a disbelieving expression, coming to cross your arms slowly. “So you believe me then?”

Alastor opened his mouth for a second, but closed it. There was a brisk exhale before he shook his head in his effort of explanation. “Darling, there’s no such thing as a third demon form. I believe you’re still getting used to yours. It takes time!” He spun on his heel and motioned to the empty space of the room. “And we have an eternity ahead of us! Lots of time to get you all figured out, yes indeedy.”

Which was basically the long version of ‘no, I don’t believe you.’ 

He turned around and poked you on the nose. You crinkled it.

“Yeah, but I think Baxter can help me figure it out quicker! He already said that my inability to control my forms—oh yeah, did you know my ears came out when I went into his space? It’s getting worse!—is weird. Who better to be taught by than the teacher himself?” You know, you really thought you had him. You really thought he couldn’t say no to you, even when you paired it with puppy eyes and the whole shebang. 

Alastor leaned back and crossed his arms. “No.”

Your jaw dropped. “What!” He was already walking back over to his chair, snapping a new cup of coffee into existence. Oh, the audacity. “Why not?” You followed after him, even going so far as to wrap your arms across the top of his chair and lean over it to get to him. “You told me you would help me! And now you’re not. Why are you saying no?” You leaned in to press your cheek awkwardly against his, all the while balancing on your tippy-toes.

“Oh I don’t know, could it be that-” he rolled his wrist for the second time in the span of five minutes, “I don’t trust him?” 

You scoffed.

He hummed, sipping at his drink. 

“You could literally kick him down the street if you wanted to. He’s smaller than  _ me!”  _ You could feel his cheeks stretch into a grin - you didn’t even have to crane your head to see it. You just knew that he was smiling. Whether he found your comment amusing or you had accidentally put a horrible plan into his mind, you didn’t really want to find out. Poor Baxter. “Pleaseee!” you pressed your cheek even harder to his. 

“You can be insufferable sometimes, you know that?” 

“Yes, but that’s why you love me.” Oh, how the confidence leaked out of your voice. 

He leaned his head back, causing you to lean yours back too from the straining position. He rested his head atop the top of the chair, peering up at you. There was a hidden mischievousness in those eyes, and you found yourself easily getting lost in them; a fondness soon following. “Yes, I suppose that  _ could  _ be one of the reasons.” His tone adopted a softer one, but that same shit-eating grin told you all you needed to know - the man was a professional jokester. 

You reached down and ruffled his hair, the gentle thrum of radio that was naturally emitted from him was simply a comfort to the otherwise silent room. You probably would have stayed like that for ages if you weren’t on a mission.

He sighed in a defeated tone, your expression betraying your true intentions. 

“So that means yes? You’re not gonna say ‘no’ again? _ ” _

“I suppose.”

Whoa, was he really giving up that easily?  _ Alastor? _

“But! There’s a price.” A wink.

There it was.

You watched as he leaned forward to snap his fingers. The bookshelf (that you were pretty sure at this point consisted solely of stolen items, or as he would call it, ‘borrowed’) off to the right shook for a moment before a book came flying out of the stack, ending up right in Alastor’s hands. He offered it to you just as you rounded the chair to stand at his side with a confused expression.

“This is a journal where you’ll write down your experiences, lessons, and log everything that you learn about your demon form and powers.” He explained as you took it and, to sate your bubbling curiosity, flipped through it despite knowing full well that it was completely empty.

You closed it with a  _ thump _ , holding it to your chest. “Okay! Thank you.” 

Alastor, satisfied with the development, waved his finger in the air before going back to reading and sipping his bitter coffee, just like you had found him. 

A minute passed.

“Is... the lab in his room?” You questioned.

“No.” Alastor couldn’t hide the mischievous tone in his voice if he tried. He didn’t, too invested in what was going on in his story. 

“Uh,” you laughed a single note, scrunching your eyebrows together. “So, where is it then?”

“The other side of the hall!”

“The other side of the hall.” You repeated. The hallways in the hotel were ridiculously long, which was why it took you so long to clean it when you had that job. “Why?”

“I said that I would do it, I never said I wouldn’t make it hard for him. Goodness, he never leaves his room! It’ll be good for him to have an outing and whatnot!” He grinned against the lip of his cup. “If he has a problem with it, he can bring it up with me.” 

That would never happen if the scientist had half the brain cell he claimed to have. 

As Alastor opened his book once more, perfectly content in your company and his free afternoon, you leaned over the armrest to press a long kiss to his cheek in gratitude, despite your protests. It wasn’t your problem. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You muttered gently, but he simply murmured an ‘adieu’ as his face was practically stuffed into the book. 

You didn’t get a chance to look at the cover, but with how intensely he was reading it, it was alright to assume that it was something grotesque. With that being said, you left his room with a skip in your step and a positive energy that you naturally exhibited anyways. You were happy, and that was all that mattered.

When you left, Alastor closed the book for a moment and summoned the shadow that had followed him from the beginning until the end of eternity. A near infinite amount of days and nights. The form manifested into semi-transparency, tendrils of what appeared to be dark smoke (though were most likely not) pooling at the feet of the creature. “Chester, my good friend - keep an eye on our darling and that new scientist of ours, won’t you? I believe he’s more trouble than what it’s worth. But keep out of sight.” 

He was just salty that he couldn’t train you himself. Just because he knew that Baxter had more experience in that type of thing, didn’t mean he liked it. And he didn’t have to. Chester opened it’s ghoulish maw and let out a higher pitched sound - an affirmation in a language that was understood by no one other than it’s master. With that being said, it lost consistency and slipped out of the crack under the door, chasing your own shadow and merging with it.

It didn’t take you long to reach Baxter’s door, and once you did, you knocked. It was silent (which ultimately had you confused), before you heard a series of clicks and hatches unhinging from their posts to open said door. 

“You again. What is it?”

“I got you your lab.”

There was silence as the door wrenched open, a disbelieving expression crossing the angler’s face. “Impossible. Labs don’t exist in Hell.” The space where his nose would be was scrunched up.

I’m sorry, come again?

Spurred by your dumbfounded expression, he continued on: “Lab Work requires education and training that most demons don’t have.”

Unlike him, you assumed. You narrowed your eyes. What did he have for breakfast? A big plate of  _ Ego‘s _ Waffles? 

“To handle the instruments and tools necessary for the experiments that I conduct, you need to have a steady hand, and a  _ brain.” _ He inspected his glove as he continued on. “Though sometimes it seems like I’m the only one that has one.”

Did he just call you stupid? 

“So… the deal wasn’t even a deal?” Now you were sort-of pissed off because, excuse me bitch? 

Baxter’s glasses glinted as he turned to face you. “Consider it a lack of investment of my precious time. If I helped you, I would lose more than I have.”

Motherfucker, he had a whole ass eternity. 

“-It was also a way to get you out of my hair faster. Turn the glow on,” he pointed to the bulb atop his head, “and shake your hand. I’m honestly surprised my hypothesis worked.” He admitted.

“You’re an  _ asshole _ .”

He grinned up at you. “I’m pretty sure we went over this already.” 

“Well listen,” you leaned back. “I have the lab, and since  _ I  _ thought it was a deal, you still have to do what we agreed on.”

“Or what?”

“You can talk to Alastor, and I don’t think he’d be very happy to know that you fooled me.” Gotcha, you smelly Albert Einstein wannabe. You could practically hear the ticking from the clock somewhere in his room as he processed the thinly veiled threat. You wouldn’t be fooled again. 

No sir.

“Or... I could just close the door.” And there he was, backing away into the shadows of his room. 

The sneer on your face cracked and you deflated. “Come on, please!” If you had to result in begging him, you would. “You saw how weird my… fluctuations or something were! You also really want a lab, right? I got you the lab, it’s right down the hall!” You slammed your palm onto the door, and grabbed his collar - he was smaller than you, so you had the ability to do that. You were getting answers, come hell or high water. 

“So  _ help me.” _

Baxter’s eyes were flickering between your hand and your eyes, baffled at the fact that you were not only  _ still  _ here, but you had the audacity to touch him. Reaching up, he narrowed his eyes and, before you could process what exactly he was doing, he pinched you. Hard.

“Hey!” Yelling out, you released him and he reacted by giving off a pissy ‘hmph’, before pushing past you and going into the hallway.

“Show me to the lab.” Not that he believed you or anything, but your determination was something to be admired - that was all he would give you. 

You rubbed your arm with a grimace, before stepping out with him. Once you did, he moved to lock all  _ ten  _ of his locks on his door, before looking to you with an expectant expression. He tapped his foot impatiently, and you found yourself wanting to grab that bulb on his head and yank it as hard as you could. No. You couldn’t. You were a polite person. 

You could do this. 

Taking a deep breath, you silently turned and led the way. 

At the end of the hall was a sign that read ‘LABORATORY’ - it was practically impossible to miss; which you were thankful for considering Alastor had never actually told you what room it was in. You stopped in front of the door, hoped for Lucifer that it was an actual lab, and then opened it. You stepped in first and immediately let out a loud sigh of relief. It was almost blinding with how white the room was, decorated wall to wall with posters of the different elements and some quotes that would have been found in a school building.

In fact, it looked almost  _ too  _ much like a lab out of a school.Which was safe to assume that Alastor had ripped one out of a building. They had school in Hell, right? There had to be, considering that was literally nine months of hell to begin with. “There, see—”

“A LAB! A REAL, TRUE LAB!” Baxter cried—he  _ cried! _ —in glee.

You watched with a mixture of confusion, an ‘I told you so’ expression, and amusement as he roughly pushed past you and began to inspect the instruments, pulling out drawers, cabinets, the desks and everything in between, all the while naming every single thing he picked up:

“Petri dishes, tongs, microscopes, flasks, mortar and pestle, glass rods, beaker…” and the list went on. It continued on like this for what you could only guess was no less than an hour, and you felt yourself growing antsy with impatience. You were beginning to wonder if he even forgot you were here to begin with, completely and utterly besotted with his laboratory equipment. He was all out fanboying over here, for goodness sake. 

“Hey, Baxter?”

“Bromine, Francium, Cesium…”

“Baxter.”

“A-HA! There it is!” He held up a tightly closed vial of a silver liquid. “Mercury.” 

“Baxter!”

Baxter nearly dropped the vial, but managed to grasp it and place it delicately on the counter. He turned to you with a frown. “What on— What!? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Can you help  _ me  _ now? You have your lab, your elements, your… whatever those are.” You looked down at the bottom of the counter where it contained different jars of dissected creatures. You grimaced. It faintly reminded you of Alastor’s own ‘mystery room’, as you so lovingly dubbed it.

“Fine.” 

“Wait, really?” You perked up immediately, leaning off of the desk in the center of the room. “How do we start? What do you need to know?” Baxter held up a finger to silence you. 

“First things first, we need to lay down some ground rules.” He came up to you, hands behind his back. 

“Uh, okay?”

“Number one:  _ Don’t  _ touch anything. This is  _ my  _ lab.”

“Not exactly, it’s actuall—”

“Number two: When I’m speaking, don’t interrupt me.”

You rolled your eyes and shut your mouth.

“Number three: Wash your hands before and after experiments. Even if you don’t get anything on them, I don’t want you to bring  _ filth  _ into my lab. What is in the lab, stays in the lab.”

This went on for about forty-five minutes, the list already down in the triple digits. 

And then finally,  _ finally,  _ Baxter paused and waited. “You can speak now.”

“Is that it?” You replied sarcastically.

“Do you want to implement more rules? Let’s see—“

“NO!” You reached out to stop him. “No.” You laughed. “ _ No.” _

“Then yes,” he turned to you, fixing his goggles. “I think we can start now.”

And so you did, the hours flying by along with the days until you had reached the middle of the week - and from that point you had found yourself in a deeper understanding of yourself. Currently, you had found yourself sitting on your bed, opening up the journal in your lap and beginning to jot down the information that you remembered:

**Day One,**

The first day went by easily enough, the hours flying by in the blink of an eye. It was engaging, and I found myself learning more in five minutes than I could have ever wanted. For example, Baxter’s first experiment after learning that I could control electricity to some extent was to literally electrocute me. 

He didn’t warn me, which made me angry, but I got over it after learning that I withstanded a current of 10 mA (I’m still not too sure what that means, but he said that it was fatal to humans, which only pissed me off more. It could have had consequences!). I had only felt stings, or at least that’s the best way I can describe it. Baxter told me that to any other demon, that amount of voltage would have caused them to, for lack of better phrasing, reboot for several days before getting back to normal. 

Apparently regeneration is a thing? 

Had I been electrocuted? Yes. Did it hurt like a son of a bitch? Absolutely. But I have resistance to it, even if it wasn’t fully. Interestingly enough, when I forgot to dry my hands and he tried it again, the shock wasn’t as bad. We’re not too sure yet what that means, but his hypothesis is that when near water, I have added resistance. Since that goes against all laws of physics, he says he needs to study that one more. He’s really confusing to listen to, especially when he gets excited about something. Sometimes I find myself just nodding and letting him ramble on.

He gets annoyed when I question him a lot.

**Day Two,**

Baxter doesn’t like not knowing things. He likes holding knowledge above other demon’s heads for an advantage - maybe that had to do with his height. We learned today that I have no resistance to fire, which is good to know. At least he made me wear a mask beforehand so I didn’t inhale the fumes when he put soap on my hand and then proceeded to set fire to it. It took about two seconds for me to start screaming, and then he doused me in foam from the fire extinguisher. It was messy, but it caused those weird fin-like ears of mine to come out again. He’s really starting to hammer down on my physical form, now.

He said that if I can have a better control of my adrenaline, I’ll be able to switch back and forth at will just like every other demon. He wants to test it tomorrow, I’ll write down what we find. He said that he wanted to study Critter for ‘information’, but I told him no, because he isn’t a test subject or a toy. 

**Day Three,**

Exciting news! When I’m near electronics or electrical outlets, I can control the currents! They run up and down my arms and electrocute anything that touches me - it doesn’t hurt me when it’s coming  _ from  _ me, but it does when it’s from another source. Weird. Funny enough, he uses a lot of slang that makes no sense to me - I asked him when he died because a lot of it sounded similar to what Alastor uses, and he said in the 1910’s. The conversation went a little like this, especially after coming to the realization that we’re similar in demon appearances. More importantly, by the ears:

“So, how’d you die?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know. I’m trying to start up a conversation.”

“This is why I don’t leave my room.”

“Well?”

“Ship.”

“You drowned?”

“You’re not as stupid as you look.”

“Gee, thanks…”

“Not that I care or anything, but because it could be affecting your full form, what caused your demise?”

“Oh, I was murdered.”

The look that crossed his face was funny, but it was short lived. Looking back, I wish I could have taken a picture. He’s actually pretty expressive when he’s caught off guard. But Baxter is a party-pooper, so he made me get back to work quickly. We later found out, after he took a blood sample that a lot of my DNA for my demon form (don’t ask me how it works, he didn’t explain it) contains a mixture of different sea creatures that… wait for it, are scavengers. Which meant that my soul, out of all the forms it could have taken, made a hybrid out of all the creatures that could have eaten me. Graphic, right?

It gets worse.

Baxter told me that those holes in my skin are where I was eaten! He found it weird that it was covered up by skin though, after triggering my adrenaline enough for me to go into that form. He tried a whole lot of scare tactics. I think I’m a bit paranoid now, thinking that he’s right behind me and waiting for me to lower my guard. He’s not as bad as he tries to appear to be, he is just… really introverted. But I’m thankful for his help. Anyways, the real kicker of this entire ‘training’ thing is that he thinks that somehow I’m being blocked from transforming into my full form.

His hypothesis is that my mind, having induced the trauma that I have, is not ready to make the leap of faith it needs to give me everything, which is why I feel like there’s more. If he’s right, there’s nothing he or I can do. If he induces it, it could have lasting and dangerous effects. All we can do is wait.

You closed the journal and put it on your bedside table, just as a steady yet light knock resounded from your door. Blinking, and letting out a small ‘come in’, you watched as the blonde-haired princess made herself known in your space. 

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey. We- well,  _ I  _ wanted to talk to you about something.” She came over to your bed and sat on the edge as you furrowed your brows and scooted over to meet her.

“What’s it about?” Immediately your anxiety skyrocketed.

“Oh no, it’s nothing bad,” Charlie laughed anxiously, patting her hand on your knee to ease your own anxieties. 

“It’s just that…” She cringed, weighing her options. “Alastor has been really,  _ really  _ irritable ever since you started spending time with Baxter. He’s starting to scare away potential patrons and new guests and… You know why we can’t have that. I tried talking to him, but you know him.” She offered you an uncertain smile.

Your stomach dropped. “What’s he doing exactly?”

“Short replies, not as eccentric, more… I don’t know. Impatient? Not at all like the Alastor I know. Husk even confronted him and for the next hour, Alastor took away all of his drinks. It was a mess! Can you go talk to him?” 

You blinked slowly, before nodding. “Suuure, I think I know what this is about, anyways.” He has always been possessive of you after all, and this was one of the first times you had actually been away from him. No wonder he was acting weird - and you had been too blind to see it.

“Cool beans.”

You felt guilty,  _ sad.  _ You had been selfish, thinking only of yourself and not of those that were affected by it. Hopping off the bed, you grabbed the journal and followed Charlie out. But how could you have known with how busy you had been? He had never brought it up when you went to sleep.“Where is he now?”

“I’m not sure, he left a bit ago. Maybe check his room?”

“Thanks Charlie.” You gave her a quick hug and immediately bolted down the hallway, nearly tripping over the carpeting a few times, before climbing up the stairs like an Olympic Rock climber. Your heart thudded in your chest as you did so, nearly running over Niffty in the process. 

“Sorry, Niffty!” You called over your shoulder.

The cleaner, thankfully, had moved out of the way at the last second just as you turned the corner and darted out of view. You weren’t even sure why you were running still, honestly. At the realization, you slowed down. There wasn’t any immediate danger, there was nothing  _ causing  _ you to run; and oh boy were you out of breath now. You stopped and leaned against the wall, completely winded. 

Swallowing thickly, you pushed yourself off and continued down the remainder of the hallway, the light from beneath the door luring you like a moth to a flame. Gently, you placed your hand on the nob before pushing it open, being greeted by an otherwise dark room, silhouetted by a flame that was centered inside of a fireplace. You had never realized Alastor had his own fireplace, so you assumed he just snapped it into existence when he so desired. Perhaps you just hadn’t noticed.

You had the tendency to do that sometimes.

Your gut twisted in anxiety when you saw Alastor lounging on the couch, his feet propped up on a pillow along with his head. Out of it all, he took up the entirety of the couch, leaving no room for any stray visitors that wished to converse. The fire crackled and spat out embers when you slowly and silently closed the door, a thousand thoughts running through your end: Why was he lashing out? What could have possibly caused this? Why didn’t he talk to you about it? And so many more. It took you only a moment longer to realize that he was actually  _ sleeping.  _

A book rested atop his falling and rising chest, and you walked over and, with a hope to not disturb him, you very,  _ very  _ carefully took it off of him and placed it on the table. There, you placed your own journal atop it. The room was warm amidst a deep red and orange glow, the ambiance of the bog and the mist adding a comforting lullaby for the Radio Demon. He didn’t sleep often, you knew, so when he did, you were happy enough to let him rest. 

Just as you were about to grab a blanket and put it over him, something grabbed your wrist. You looked down with knitted brows to see a familiar clawed hand attached to an arm, said arm going up and attaching to his shoulders. Alastor. God damn it, did you wake him? As if reading your thoughts, the demon spoke up, voice plagued by sleep.

“I wasn’t sleeping. Merely dozing. Stay.”

You met his eyes with a softness, a gentle smile pulling at the edges of your lips. “I’m not leaving,” you murmured. 

The blanket was mostly an accessory, the heat and humidity in the room already well acquainted with you considering that there was a swamp. You put it back down atop the rim of the couch, and let Alastor pull you down on top of him. 

It was a bit more forceful than you anticipated, and it caused you to let out a ‘woah’ as he snaked his arms around you and properly kept you enclosed in his embrace. In the span of two seconds, you were now face to face with your lover - the man that caused you so much trauma, but ended up redeeming himself through his own love. 

Perhaps Alastor was too far gone to be redeemed in Charlie’s standards - you doubted he even wanted to be, but in hindsight, he already had for you. It was what caused you to have faith that everything would be alright in the end. 

His eyes were luminescent against your skin as he gazed at you with a fondness that simply couldn’t be rivaled; already it made your heart do leaps and bounds, a flurry of butterflies engulfing your stomach in their ticklish sensations. 

It was always so odd to be able to pick up on these things - to be able to tell exactly what it was that he was feeling, simply by being in his presence. You closed the distance and let your nose fall into the crevice of the his, your cheek being cooled by the glass of his monocle that you reached up smoothly and unclasped. You never knew if he actually needed it. Alastor seemed to be lost in his own era. 

But he let you.

You brought the chain and monocle off to the side and let it fall on top of the table before quickly replacing the loss of it with your hand. More particularly, your thumb which stroked the heated flesh that was no doubt caused by the warmth of the vicinity the two of you were located in. You felt him lean into your soft touches well before you saw it, his eyes turning into slits as if he wanted to close them, but just as much wanted to keep you in his sights.

“What’s going on with you?” You breathed against his lips, the phantom touches causing you to long to sweetly press them to him - you barely refrained. 

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean, darling.” His voice was lowered, tired, meant for your ears and your ears alone. 

“Charlie told me that you’ve been irritable these past few days,” you admitted. Alastor _ wasn’t  _ irritable. It just didn’t exist in his… what was it called, genetic makeup? Persona? His  _ person  _ wasn’t someone that was affected by such nonsensical emotions, his reactions quick and almost whiplash in build. But whether or not anyone had noticed, the two of you were changing to better mold each other's needs and desires; built up on the experiences you had lived through. Like a pile of clay, untouched, Alastor was molding you into a person that you were…  _ proud  _ to be. 

Confidence was something that was a fleeting memory when it came to you, but here you were, laying atop one of the most powerful demons in Hell, if not the most dangerous when it came to mortal souls, chiding him for behavior that had helped him survive and pass other unimaginable forces for nearly a century. At first you would have assumed that he was only giving you the time of day because he had a weird obsession with you, but now you knew. 

Love was the most purity that would be found in the bowels of Hell - and you had been lucky enough to obtain it together. 

“She told me that you haven’t been yourself.”

“Preposterous!”

“You even made Husk’s drinks disappear, and that is  _ not  _ good!” Everyone knew,  _ especially  _ Alastor, that Husk’s drinks were practically a part of his person. You wouldn’t be surprised if one day he just ended up turning into the physical embodiment of a liquor bottle. You would have seen weirder.

If Alastor could have rolled his eyes any harder, his eyeballs would have escaped the confines of his sockets. 

“This is quite ridiculous. I do think I’ve heard enough.” Alastor scoffed, and you frowned. “Honestly, darling. These demons have the backbone of a stick. ” He sneered.

“Then why were you acting that way?” 

“Husker is a dew-dropper that does nothing but drink. I am simply doing my job by making sure that new guests aren’t put off by that!” His explanation was rushed, but didn’t make any sense to you. Alastor never gave a shit about the vulgarities of Husk’s behavior, in fact, he almost always seemed to commend it as a job well done. 

So, naturally, you were onto him from the beginning.

“Are you sure it wasn’t because he asked you why you were acting differently? Confronted you?” The man had such control over his emotions normally, but you had something he hadn’t- the ability to observe his quirks that he himself didn’t even notice. Silence, in particular, was a damn good incentive that he wasn’t saying what was really on his mind. 

And that was when you realized that not only Charlie had been right, but something really  _ was  _ wrong. Especially with how tightly he was holding onto you. You were sure it was subconscious. “Al,” you cooed, running the tip of your nose against his. When you pulled away, you were surprised to find that his head naturally navigated after yours. 

You pressed your hand on his chest to stop him. You squinted. “I don’t believe you.” You had every right not to believe him. 

“That insufferable demon Baxter has taken up all of your time. How long has it been since we’ve last had time together? Three days?” He refused to look at you, which you supposed was a natural response. Alastor felt exposed in a way that he had only felt a handful of times, and even then they weren’t as intense as those shared by you. 

“But you said that it was okay. You never brought it up when we went to bed.” 

“That’s not the point,” he completely dismissed your factual point. You felt one of his gloved hands rise to run up your arm, the leather cool against your skin. “He has hurt you by doing his experiments, you are not a lab rat, darling,  _ you are mine.”  _ His grin which had been lax to this point, twisted up to the point of a monster out representation of the creature that lurked deep within himself. 

He was gripping you too hard, but it was enough for you to worry that it may bruise come the morning. You had come to the conclusion that sometimes he didn’t know his own strength. To not escalate the matters, you let him rant away.

_ “I  _ did not agree to you willingly putting yourself in the face of danger just so you could find out more about your demon form. Goodness, what did he do? Electrocute you? Why in the Nine Circles would you  _ ever  _ do that? Your willingness to put yourself into danger astounds and terrifies me, and half of the time I’m not even sure you want to see me anymore. You’re always up there with that idiotic fish, and never with  _ me _ .”

He gripped your sides and, with one hand, forcefully pushed himself up so that your lips would meet his once again, only for you to let out a surprised sound. He wanted to hold you, touch you, be with you. And he couldn’t do that when that poor excuse of a scientist was in the way. 

_ His. His. His. _

It was one of the first experiences in your time with him that you had actually seen him act in such a way. Even as you willingly kissed him back, the fact that he wanted you so badly to himself that it affected the other residents of the hotel was a bit… extensive. He thought you weren’t going to return to him after your training was done. He was holding onto the anxiety that he had when you had left him. 

_ Trust.  _

But you had broken it.

Anxious Alastor? It was more likely than you may have thought, and it left you and him in a state of disarray as you tried to figure out the best way to manage it.

For the second time, you pulled away, but immediately let your lips caress his cheek, peppering his face in kisses of affection. A deep vibration originated against your chest as you kissed down his jawline, and you could have sworn that it was a bit more animalistic, a bit more  _ deep  _ than what it should have been. It was a sound that would have instilled fear into you months prior, had you running for the hills while he pursued you like some wicked predator.

A demon that had no experience in this type of behavior, no previous interest in it - it was a bit funny to you that Alastor, the Radio Demon, the one that despised physical affection or physical touch of any sort, was longing for a dose of TLC. 

Who would have thought?

You pressed your lips into his jugular, finding that his radio talk that had been previously hard to tune out began to quiet. “You’re crazy if you believed that I would just  _ leave. _ ” You whispered. 

“I’m rather sure I’m a psychopath, but yes. Crazy.” The vibration of his voice running through his neck tickled your lips, and you let out a laugh. 

You breathed out, your eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your head into the crook of his neck. It was an innocent embrace at that point, your only desire to take him down from his aggravation and settle him back into who he was.

“I’ll never leave you.” Honest words were offered as you leaned back to look down at him, propping yourself up with your hands, your legs around his waist as he began to sit up with you in his grasp. The height difference was ridiculous, and he had to shift to be comfortable more often than not. “You don’t have to lash out to get my attention, Al.” Because everyone knew that even if he wasn’t eager to be touched, he was absolutely someone that required attention twenty-four-seven.

“There’s no shame in just asking for it.” That was what it was about, after-all. He was confused with his desires, his inability of feeling them before almost blinding.

You took in a deep breath.

“We’re in this together, y’know? It’s you n’ me.” You played with the strap on his shirt absentmindedly, before looking back up to him. “But you know it’d be cool if you could be honest with me, because I’m no whiz at relationships either.” 

There was silence, but you were in a state of ease as you listened to the ambiance, your body strongly enclosed in his grasp. 

“Darling,” 

You felt one of his hand ghost to the sides of your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair away and tucking it behind your ear. “Yeah?” You didn’t open your eyes, simply leaning into his touch and simple affections. 

“May I request some attention?” 

“Attention?” You blanked. Weren’t you already touching him? And talking to him? Subconsciously (because it  _ had  _ to be) you felt him shift his hips beneath you. 

“Did I say it wrong? Oh, goodness.” Was that a blush on his face, or was he simply being affected by the heat? 

And then it settled in, “ _ OH! _ ”

“No, it’s okay. I just... wasn't expecting you to ask me to do that.” You confessed with a nervous laugh. You watched as he laid back down - Alastor wasn’t a sexual being, so that fact that he was the one instigating it had you in a state of shock for a good minute or so. 

“Do what?” He rested his head atop the arm rest, a smug grin forming upon his expression. “Is this not what couples do?” 

_ Well, when he asked like that.  _

“Um, yeah.” You were giddy, your heart rate erratic. You couldn’t hide the coiling in your gut if you tried, and god forbid someone walked in on you two now. 

He affected you so easily. Silently, you brought your lips to his again, brushing over them in a teasing manner. He wanted you to touch him. No. Give him  _ attention.  _ In almost an eager state, he accepted the request and pressed his own lips to yours; tasting faintly of bourbon, but not enough for you to believe that he was under the influence. His lips were soft, molding easily with yours as if they had always meant to be there. A groan slipped past his teeth as you let your tongue trace across his lower lip, and you greedily swallowed the sound. It was music to your ears.

You wanted to stay here, with him, for the rest of infinity and then some. 

You wanted to let go of all of the wonders, horrors, and mysteries of the world and of yourself that you had yet to still discover - you wanted to be with him until the very end, and hold him, cherish him, show him what trust and love looked like while the two of you battled through the throws of fate.

Nature, after all, had never been kind. And in the brink of emotion and gentle kisses that only originated through your affection for each other, you sighed hotly into his mouth, your lips swollen from his affections. You felt his claws press into you before you began to navigate your kisses down to his jaw, his neck, and moved your hand down to unzip his suit jacket, simultaneously. The man always wore so many layers, which didn’t help at all in this situation. 

But what could you do?

“Do you mind sitting up?” Your breath was suddenly heavy as he did so, holding you close to his chest as if he were legitimately cradling a toddler. Even with his eyes closed, he skillfully began discarding his suit jacket, keeping his undivided attention on you and you alone. For the briefest of seconds, he turned to place the jacket on the other side of the couch, and you saw that as your only opportunity. 

But just as you were about to get off of him, he snapped his head to you so fast that you swore you heard his neck crack. 

You winced.

“Where are you going?” Begrudgingly, he allowed you to escape his hold.

“Nowhere. Relax.” You continued to unwind yourself from his waist before you stood up, and then fell to your knees in front of him. Alastor almost looked like he didn’t know what to do, and oddly egotistical because _you_ were on _your knees _for him. How awfully erotic.

And confusing, apparently.

“What on earth are you doing on the floor?” 

God, he was clueless.

Adorable.

You didn’t answer as you placed your hands on his knees and looked up to him. “Do you want me to stop?” 

He shook his head, fringe flopping side to side. “No, I’m just baffled. The floor, darling?”

You looked down at it. “What about it?”

And then you realized. You had never touched him like this - it had always been on the bed. 

“Oh.  _ Oh.  _ This is how you do it normally... I think.” You slowly began to push his legs apart so you could scoot closer. He watched you the entire time like a confused but attentive predator, ears pivoted forwards and back arched forward as if he were inspecting every little thing that you were about to do. 

It almost looked painful.

“Do you  _ want _ me to touch you like this?”

“I don’t care.” 

That was all you needed before you reached forward and unbuttoned the clasp to his slacks. You applied a bit of pressure from your palm as a filtration of excited chattering of radio hosts and other fragments of what was once his reality sieved through his body. Another quirk of his was that when you or someone managed to silence the Radio Demon who was  _ notorious  _ for talking, his thoughts were sometimes broadcast through broken recordings. 

The fact that he trusted you, loved you enough to delve into practices such as this… well, if that wasn’t enough for your heart to go absolutely batshit crazy, you weren’t sure what was. 

“Can you raise your hips so I can take these off real quick?” You grasped the waistband of his slacks as you looked up to him, but just as he was about to do the ‘snappity thing’, you grabbed his hand and shook your head.

“No, I want to do it.” 

“You perplex me, darling. I don’t understand why you insist on doing it the hard way when you could  _ easily _ have everything at your disposal without a second thought!” Alastor, however, did comply and lifted himself up just enough so you could roll his pants down to his ankles. 

He wasn’t easy to shut up when he started talking; especially when he was nervous or excited about something. 

“The amount of time that could be saved is a great many, dear, if you simply listened to me and tried it out for yourself, you know, I assure you I could teach you if you had the interest in it. I suppose I could fit it into my schedule, I am a very busy man after-all, oh-ho! Did I tell you that time when I-”

He was cut off when you pressed your mouth to his boxers, tracing your lips teasingly up to his waistband which you found yourself grabbing with your teeth before letting it go so it could snap back against his waist. It was a silent reminder for him to knock it off. 

Right now wasn’t the time for his theatrics. 

You watched with an amused expression as he slowly closed his jaw with an audible  _ click,  _ the sound emitting from the collision of the tips of his sharp teeth.

He remained quiet, thankfully, as you pressed your lips to his knee, leading inwards to his inner thigh. Each kiss was placed gently, and in time, Alastor began to understand exactly what it was you were doing. That, or he gave up because sexual actions were way too confusing for him. You were taking your time with each of his legs, leading closer and closed to the center which was beginning to long for your attention, hidden from view from prying eyes.

And then you had a horribly brilliant idea. 

Oh ho. 

Oh  _ no. _

You began to kiss around him, the softness of his thighs, his abdomen that was still relatively covered by his bright shirt, taking your time with each movement no matter how desperately you wanted him to feel good. You weren’t sure why you thought of the idea, but it made heat flare between your own thighs. It was sinfully delicious. 

So you didn’t touch him.

Alastor’s voice was above you suddenly, breaking his own personal record for how long he could be quiet, and you peeked up to only see his chin, his head against the headrest as he bared himself to you in his full glory. He didn’t move to look at you, didn’t show any indication that he was referring or desiring your undivided attention, and you found yourself quickly approaching the realization that he was simply saying things for the hell of it. Then again, they were mostly soft whispers, the transitioning of radio silence to clicks of stations tuning. The ambiance was easy to tune out, though - comforting, if anything. 

Quietly, you refocused your attention back to your task at hand.

It was only when you slid off his boxers and alleviated him from the fabric did a hiss escape his lips which only served you to crinkle your nose. He was awfully vocal for someone who claimed that  _ you  _ were the songbird. Any snarky remark that would have easily butchered the experience remained quiet, though the temptation never failed to exist.

When coming face-to-face with him in such an intimate moment, you were often rendered silent.

His weeping tip made you want to whine, salivate, and everything in between; it made pressure well up deep in your gut and sent shock-waves of heat coursing down into where you desperately wanted him to touch you. A series of filthy thoughts, scenarios, had begun to spur up in your mind of situations that had never occurred, and those that had. Being lost in a world crafted by fantasy and your own personal delight was too alluring for you not to divulge a bit.

With your hand wrapped around the base of his length, you slowly began to move your hand up and down in a rhythmic pattern, watching as the texture of his skin stretched and relaxed with each repetitive motion; it was hard not to gape in awe. You often found yourself lost in thought of what exactly he could do to you - left alone to your unsurprisingly vulgar thoughts in silence. You respected him, his desires, his want to wait for the right time. 

But right now with where you were kneeling, you wanted nothing more than for him to bury himself so deeply inside you that he practically kissed your womb. A heavy breath pulled you out of your reverie, your eyes completely focused on his length and how your hand was affecting him.

“How does that feel?” You questioned lightly.

A groan answered you, and 

“I assure you,” through gritted teeth, “it’s—” you applied pressure at the base of his tip, and watched as he physically stiffened, a low, lulling sound escaping the expanse of his throat. “Pleasant.” He bit out.

You felt dirty. Oh, you felt filthy.

Your eyes became hooded then as you watched as the beginnings of precum aided your hand. Experimentally, you leaned up and pressed the pad of your tongue there, and swirled it enough to elicit a reaction. His hips twitched forward of their own accord, and you eased up. Not too fast now. He tasted good. He always tasted good. 

“I missed doing this to you,” you breathed against him. You wished he would look down so you could see his expression, to see how absolutely fucked up he was over you touching and appealing to his sexual nature that you, selfishly, wanted to keep to yourself forever. You were never a dirty talker, but tonight, you wanted to give it a shot. “I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?” You stroked him slowly, applying pressure and releasing it in certain places experimentally. “For me to touch you this way.”

His hips rolled in tandem to your hand, meeting you half-way before completely ceasing and letting you take control; particularly when you gave him a rather rough squeeze. You weren’t sure what fueled the sudden urge to play in such a way, but you supposed it had to do with the fact that you were undoubtedly on a power trip. You forced yourself to remember that Alastor was  _ allowing  _ you to - any other thought would be sorely incorrect.

“I want to make you feel good, because you make me feel good. I want to,” your blush intensified as your hand picked up in pace. If you hadn’t been a sinner, you sure as shit belonged in Hell now. “I want choke on you. I want you to bury yourself in my throat. I want to struggle to breathe while you…” You couldn’t believe you were talking like this. “Fuck me.” A whine beckoned you from your thoughts and you watched as his breath stuttered in his chest as your hand continued it’s onslaught.

He had a hard time keeping his legs open, considering the amount of pleasure and heat that was currently originating right at his core. His claws began to dig into the couch, ripping up the cushioning and piercing through it; a sound that only caused you to look up for a moment. He was not a inherently sexual being, nor had he never had the need or interest in it, but each time he experienced it with you, he found himself interlocked into an overflowing Havana of the most glorious of sensations - sensations that, selfishly, he wanted to continue to have, over and over again. 

Naturally, his mind began to wander to things that he  _ never  _ would have imagined himself to be thinking, but alas.

Here he was.

You knew what those signs meant when you observed him; his noises increasing in volume to the point of you actually fearing that someone might hear the two of you, his abdominal muscles clenching, his breathing ragged. And just as he began to mutter ‘please’ so  _ sweetly  _ underneath his breath, you stopped. His neck, which supported his head lolled forward to look at you with a confused but dazed expression. He looked so lost, his chest heaving with the desire to fill it with air that he didn’t  _ need  _ to survive, but desired to obtain anyways. 

You almost felt bad.

But again, you were on a power trip.

“Sorry, what was that?” You lilted your voice appealingly so he wouldn’t, y’know, kill you. You never had power like this before - especially with him. Then again, you were generally never so daring; for you were always the one to stay on the safe side without venturing into the shadows. Perhaps it was because you were minutely annoyed that he brought the entirety of the hotel into endeavors that could have easily been settled if he had just talked to you. 

You knew it wasn’t  _ exactly  _ his fault - he was still learning, just as you were, but still, he never did like to share his thoughts. It didn’t make it any less frustration. Any internal thoughts that he was so used to locking away were usually forced to be coaxed out of him by you. You were sure he had more than a handful of instances where you had been impossible too, and so you still adored him, even if he was mildly infuriating.

Alastor’s lip twitched in annoyance, a sure sign of his built up frustration from the past week. His Adam’s Apple was moving as he swallowed harshly, a light static grazing upon your skin at the realization of what roguish schemes you were currently taking place in

Your name rolled slowly out of his throat in a way that should have terrified you. In no way were you  _ supposed  _ to have been turned on by how intensely he was staring at you. You knew exactly what he wanted…

But you were going to be a shit head. 

“Oh, sorry.” You weren’t. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Alastor knew it too. He wasn’t dumb, and you weren’t the best at being coy. You moved to wrap your lips against the tip of his cock then, and when he sighed in relief, you pulled back, only for a hand to grab your tresses of hair harshly and hold you against him. 

You blinked in surprise. 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Oh, he was really doing that.

Alastor was physically blocking you from being able to move away. When you peered up at him, he was sneering down at you with an expression that appeared monstrous and perhaps even a bit cruel; a dark blush coating his cheeks in a way that made your breath get lodged in your throat. 

_ You liked this side of him.  _

“I know what you’re up to, little sharkling.” He tutted, his teeth bared in a faux threat - he was just pent up, you had to convince yourself. 

Yes, apparently even Alastor got pent up. 

You couldn’t respond, so you gave into your desires and made him feel good by rolling your tongue around his tip. Slowly, you began to engulf more of him, and because Alastor knew just exactly how to turn the table, and so he grabbed the carpet right from under your feet and took control of the situation. And you had no idea how the fuck it happened, because one moment you were on a power trip and the next  _ you  _ were being the one controlled.

He the puppet master and you the marionette.

“Good girl. That’s my good girl.” 

His right hand was now loosely threaded in your hair as opposed to the tight grip earlier you gently bobbed your head, saliva collecting and spilling out of your mouth as you forced yourself to breathe out of your nose. He throbbed in your mouth, and you tried your best to take him all at once but good  _ god _ was the man proportional. Pressing your palms to his thighs, you pushed them apart further so that you would be able to directly focus on his length alone.

_ His good girl. _

Something about that made a sharp pang of pleasure roll throughout your body.

It was all so erotic, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your belly as you listened to the little coos and groans that escaped him, the crackling of the fireplace adding physical heat to an act that was already so… hot. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered.

His moans were so rare that half of the time you thought you were imagining them, but when you snuck a peek at his expression, you saw that he was completely and utterly blissed out, his entire face dusted in a deep hue. 

The lewd sounds only seemed to beckon him further to that sweet release, building up in his core in a way that he so few times experienced with you. Your hot little mouth was driving him so far up the wall that if he hadn’t already been insane, you surely would have broken past that barrier of sanity and offered him a sliver of madness.

You hummed against him, offering your own coos when you could, though they were mostly vibrations that he would have undoubtedly felt, if he hadn’t heard it. Generally he wouldn’t have missed it, but with how his ears were pinned to his head, you doubted it was something that would be heard. He was in his own little world, and your heart began to increase tenfold at the sight.

He was coming undone because of you _ .  _

It was all because of  _ you _ .

Slurs of incoherent words began to filter through his mouth as he lost his wits, and you doubled down on your efforts, completely removing your hand and letting his own guide your head where he wanted it to be. The moment that you gingerly let his legs go and instead brought your hands up to fondle his balls, a moan, so beautiful and  _ raw  _ that had heat flush straight into your core escaped him. It always came as a surprise to you, but you eagerly managed to swallow him. He must not have even heard himself, because if he did, he would have been horrified. 

Thankfully the only one on this floor was the two of you currently. 

_ Wasn’t he the one that said that you needed to practice being quiet?  _

Gently, you took him out of your mouth and stood up. You stumbled a bit due to your legs being asleep, but you were eagerly wrapped in warm arms; pressing your lips to his cheek as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It was an embrace that felt natural to you, and it appeared to be the same to him. You took in a deep inhale, breathing in the combination of his scent that had your heart skip a beat. 

_ The swamp never smelled so good. _

“You never cease to amaze me.” His tone was low, radio all but null as his wits returned, though just as you were about to respond, a deep hum captured your attention. It was coming from all around you, but originating from him, ebbing and flowing waves of sound. Actually, now that you were  _ really  _ listening to it, you could have sworn that it almost sounded like…

You nearly fucking lost it.

“Are you purring?”

Husk purred, but  _ Alastor?  _ You had never,  _ ever  _ heard him do that. How the hell was he purring? Wasn’t he a deer? Half radio? Well, it sounded like a rising and fall in tempo from some electronic source - perhaps a radio. It had to be. It was the white noise when changing stations, but with the falling and rise of it, you were quickly suspicious. 

You laughed out loud as you looked up to him as you settled yourself in his lap. With a snap of his fingers, the two of you were dressed in matching pajamas, and he muttered something under his breath about ‘ruining the moment’, a huff escaping his nose as he leaned back, taking you with him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” you pressed your lips gently to his nose as he laid the two of you down side by side on the couch. “I thought it was cute.” You honestly hadn’t been expecting it. 

“Yes, well, there’s a reason why I don’t do it often. It’s not a purr, dear, that’s for cats. For Husker.” He pointed out matter-of-factly; he almost sounded offended that you would even ask. “Think of it as…” he rolled his wrist. “A Radio Demon’s sound of contentment.” A grin then.

He pressed his lips to your forehead as you rested your head on his arm.

“Goodnight, mon amour.”

“Goodnight.”

_ It was totally a fucking purr. _


	71. Who Invited The Fucking Flatscreen?

That following morning, you had found yourself atop a stool that was located at the bar.

The lobby lacked the hustle and bustle of the outside world (though, to be fair, it always did), and to be completely honest, you simply found yourself forgetting the fact that it was indeed a hotel and not a permanent state of residence. Tailored particularly for those that were passing through, it still slipped your mind sometimes that most demons were wayward souls that had lost the ability to see beyond the aimless life they had made for themselves. Addiction was dangerous, and when not paired with the possibility of fatal consequences, often made for a grand world crafted on crime. 

Change was intimidating. 

Charlie was commendable; she inspired you to keep going, to find out more about your past, to make something out of yourself from the blank slate that you had arrived on. She deserved more- you couldn’t even begin to wonder how she managed to keep an optimistic outlook on the rather drab existence down here. To change, especially in the fiery pits of Hell, was unheard of. It was a common, silent acknowledgment that it was  _ normal  _ to give in to your deepest, most carnal desires. 

But Charlie had introduced change - and you were going to see it through.

“She’s so annoying.”

Your attention snapped to the hyena that was sprawled on the couch just off to the side, resting her feet atop the armrest as she tapped away on her hellphone, all the while smacking her lips obnoxiously with a wad of gum.

“Who?”

Her magenta eyes flickered up from what held her attention to your own, and for the briefest moment, you had thought you imagined her saying something before Crymini motioned with a jerk of her thumb to the television, which, sure enough, hosted the most insufferable cicada news anchor that Hell had ever seen. 

“Yeah,  _ well-  _ No, yeah, you’re right. She’s pretty bad.” You agreed half-heartedly. You had never met the woman, but from the word on the wind, she was definitely the type of bug you would have squashed with a shoe if you had been given a chance. 

“Her boobs are faker than her personality.” 

That made you laugh.

Needless to say, you fell into a comfortable conversation of shitting on Katie Killjoy with one of the newest residents of the hotel and, subconsciously, began to form a friendly association with the hyena. Normally, insults were something that made you feel bad, but for the woman on the screen? She deserved it plenty. You winced a few times when she poured hot coffee on Tom Trench’s lap, to which your company only barked out a laugh. 

Eventually, it got to the point where Husk turned off the television, muttering about having a wicked hangover (which was a rarity considering his tolerance and probably a straight out lie simply because he didn’t want to hear ruckus so loudly in the morning), and that was all it took for Crymini to get off of the couch and take a seat on the stool just next to you.

“You got a Sinstagram?”

You had heard of it, but you never used it. In fact, you rarely used your phone for anything.

“... No?”

“ _ Girl.” _

“What?”

“How do you not have a Sinstagram?  _ Everyone  _ has one. Even Husk has one!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Look, I’ll show you-”

And low and behold, amidst the grumbling of Husk in the background, you were met with a page under the account of Bar_cat75.

“That’s not me.”

You spun around in your chair quickly as you balanced yourself to lean on the counter, your phone already out of your pocket and your fingertips dancing across the screen to access the Appstore (which was accompanied by an app called the Fappstore right next to it, though you had a hunch what it held). When it downloaded- which took more than five minutes because let's face it, the WiFi was shit down here, you created a username and immediately searched up ‘Bar_cat75’ yourself.

There was a video there of Alastor’s hand twirling a petaled flower, before placing it on Husk’s head.

“That’s not you?” You squinted up to Husk with a mirthful gaze, showing him the screen.

“Nope.”

You sent a follow request, and when the buzz of a phone sounded, Husk turned away for a moment, grumbling profanities under his breath all the while.

After a second, you received your own notification:  _ Follow Request Accepted. _

You held in a laugh behind your hand, but just as you were about to utter something, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled your attention, especially when your name was called. Turning in your swivel seat you br-

“Yo, wait, what’s your username?”

You told Crymini your username.

You brought your attention to one of the only people you considered your best friend. “What’s up?”

“Hey, do you mind working with Vaggie to design the cake?”

You blinked. The cake? There was a beat as you opened your mouth and then closed it, processing the sudden request and the responsibility it took. But you managed to keep a cool expression while, on the inside, you were screaming. “Suuure, where’s Vaggie?”

“Right here.”

You watched as the woman walked past you, inspecting a piece of paper that had different references and reminders of things they wanted in particular. A sense of curiosity washed over you as you looked over her shoulder, Charlie herself letting out a gentle laugh at the display. It wasn’t often you let your more innocent side be seen nowadays. It was a breath of fresh air and, thankfully, something that she was willing to get used to on a daily basis with the sudden amount of paperwork and plans she had to oversee.

You would think marriage in Hell would be more lenient.

With your cover blown, you rolled your tongue in your mouth as you awaited further instruction and, eventually, the two of you made way towards the dining room in order to be able to appropriately bring the task to completion. You were rather creative, but that being said, you hadn’t entirely been expecting the number of ideas that Charlie had written down. Thankfully, they were only ideas and held no real purpose other than to begin moving those cogs in your mind that had been left to obtain cobwebs.

It didn’t take too long to get down the sketch of the tiered cake, a mass amount of dots to symbolize edible glitter scattered across the hastily drawn roses and other items. Though, as the two of you inquired with Charlie on what she desired, it became easier to manifest her dream into reality. 

The lining process took longer and  _ just  _ as you were about to finish-

“Hey!”

The paper was yanked out of your hand, and Vaggie’s attention snapped to you and… the individual behind you. The amount of expression that crossed the two of your faces was almost comical. Alarm, panic (because it took you a long time!), confusion, realization, and then irritation. The man that stood before you was none other than the self-entitled, one of a kind ruler that went by Lucifer.

The last time you had seen him had been during the ride to I.M.P. You had forgotten how intimidating he had been, how your fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive simply by smelling that sickenly sweet apple scent that  _ should  _ have instilled an intuition of safety, but in fact did the exact opposite. You were at a loss for what to do, especially when he looked over your work with a face that could not have been anything but disgust and disappointment, before  _ ripping it up.  _

The shreds of paper, just like your heart, fell into a heap on the floor.

There was silence.

“You know,” Vaggie’s aggrieved voice filtered through your anguish at losing the last two hours of your time, “you could have at least asked before you ripped it up.”

The booming voice that reeked with confidence and nonplussed emotion made you peek up from your awkward position. “Whatever for? Your cake should be  _ spectacular!”  _ Lucifer turned with his cane in hand which, fortunately, narrowly missed cracking you in the face. Honestly, you could feel the disturbance of  _ atoms  _ fly by you. He extended his arms in a wide, grand gesture of showmanship.

“It shall be grand, larger than life!” His voice made up for his lack of height, the volume enough for you to want to cover your ears; especially with the apparent sensitivity that you had to it. If you truly took a moment to ponder on it, it almost seemed as though the devil was announcing such a thing to an entire stadium. But he was not. He was in the dining room and unfortunately making you and Vaggie’s ears bleed.

“Don’t you know that this is the first  _ true _ royal wedding in ages, Veggie?”

“... It’s Vaggie.”

Lucifer spun around, flaunting himself and appearing so,  _ so  _ out of place despite the entire hotel consisting of the theme of circuses and apples. He began motioning wildly towards the various portraits of his family, before he turned on his heel and looked towards the  _ both  _ of you. “It’ll need more flowers- and apples of course.” His eyes were crinkled in mischievous mirth, voice ending in a murmur that almost had you lean in because you sincerely feared that you had gone deaf.

The amount of control he had over his voice was, simply stated, enough to rock your world. 

But if there was one, the other wasn’t usually far behind.

“Did someone say grand?”

The sound of clacking shoes alerted you to a familiar and  _ very  _ welcome presence that you had yet to see today, your heart fluttering at the sight of your ridiculously charming and unfathomably chatty lover. With a swiftness that couldn’t be rivaled, Alastor leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek in greeting, something Lucifer did not miss, before just as quickly spreading his arms out and announcing his presence to the suddenly stuffy dining room. 

It was obvious that the two of them were quite closely bonded- and if Alastor had friends, Lucifer no doubt would have taken up the slot for the ‘best’. While Vaggie looked like she was about to commit third-degree murder, you had found yourself growing amused with the sudden development. Your annoyance was still very much alive, though.

“I dare say…” Alastor leaned closer, a single hand lying upon the small of his back as he held his microphone, the other coming to point at a suddenly grandiose sketch of a cake. “I think you could do a bit more here.”

There was a snap of a finger and a hum of agreement from Lucifer as he began color-coding the entirety of the cake, all the while Alastor suddenly took notice at the very red reminder of Vaggie’s face, and the slight irritation on your own. Crows feet formed at the corners of his eyes, and god, if looks could kill, Alastor would have been  _ gone.  _

Because if there was anything that Alastor found entertaining, it was riling up Vaggie and other passersby that got his unfortunate attention. 

“Oh! But why stop here? Lucifer, there is just so much to be done, in such a short amount of time at that, why don’t we prepare the  _ menu  _ as well?”

Lucifer leaned back with a thrilled expression. “No expense shall be spared! Those trifling Eldritch folk will cower at the power of our hors d’oeuvres, let alone the main course! You clever, clever man!”

Spurred on by the intensity of Vaggie’s expression and Lucifer’s own words of praise, he continued on. “I believe some of the flowers have already been ordered, but there are table cloths, glassware…” 

He continued listing off things that came to mind while the devil himself had the biggest shit-eating grin and honestly what could have been the most excitement you had ever seen him possess. Then again, you had only ever met him once. 

You leaned on your fist, and shot Vaggie a look, though she was solely set on staring daggers at the two  _ morons  _ that were overtaking  _ her  _ wedding. It only took a moment for swatches of fabrics to begin to pile atop the table, completely messing up the entire organized space that you had aided in making. 

“Should we do a pattern?” Lucifer inquired.

“A true sin if we didn’t!” Alastor scoffed.

At last, the princess finally noticed the ruckus and stepped into the dining room, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion and, to be quite honest, it was a bit amusing to see her expressions shift just as yours did. 

“Dad?”

“Hello, Charlotte!” Lucifer chimed back without lifting his attention from the task at hand, quickly diving back into the workload he had cut out for himself. Charlie’s gaze shifted between the four of you in a moment of confusion before she walked over to Vaggie’s side of the table and silently urged her  _ and  _ you to leave the room with a jab of her thumb. 

To say the least, she was a lot more understanding that Vaggie was about the sudden intrusion, and, after managing to calm her down enough that legible words could escape her, Charlie turned to you. 

“So… I think it might be best if we find something else for you to do? We have a really long list, so I’m sure dad wouldn’t mind if you took care of some stuff. He… sometimes gets in a little over his head.” An anxious laugh then. 

She spun on her heel, tapping her index finger to her lips as she shifted her attention to the bar cat.

“Husk! Hey!”

An immediate groan, but nothing to stop the chatter that soon escaped Charlie and filled the room. You followed behind her aimlessly, solely dependent on her instructions. Husk’s torso was slumped over the counter, a clawed hand grasping lazily at the alcohol bottle. 

“Do you think you could go with her to pick out some wines and alcohol? It’ll be good for you to get out for a breath of fresh air!”

“No.”

“Oh… Why not?”

“I told you, I’m not going to that stupid fucking wedding.”

The expression that Charlie had at that moment nearly broke your heart, and for the briefest of seconds, you thought that you could see a flash of regret in Husk’s eyes. But perhaps it was simply your imagination- he wasn’t the most expressive guy, and he was back to guzzling his drink before you could even question it.

That was your cue.

“I’ll let you buy whatever you want if you come with me.”

He paused in his sip, squinting at you from over the rim of the bottle.

“Anything?” His voice was echoed.

“Yeah…” You shifted to look to Husk again. “Anything.”

That was all it took to convince him to not only tend to the bar during the wedding, but to accompany you in picking out different brands. You weren’t entirely sure what to look for but paired with Husk’s expertise, you were in and out of there before you could even blink, the feline having multiple cases of high-end alcohol that he seemed far too excited to guzzle. That, and a hefty reduction in your savings.

However, as much as you wanted to convince yourself that you were particularly well-set in being able to fill the silence with your thoughts, Husk having had already opened a bottle and downing half of it before you even walked out the automatic door, you couldn’t. You had the tendency to be a bit absentminded with it when it came to that sort of thing. 

It was a bit ironic that the ‘breath of fresh air’ that Charlie claimed would be good for you and Husk to get smelt stale, musty, and perhaps hinted with the faintest scent of greasy, calorie-packed fast food. There were probably a trillion other smells mingled in, which included but wasn’t limited to: the bad breath of demons, the smoke that was produced through the exhausts from run-down cars, cigarettes, and bins of trash that were now used as tinder to keep people warm. You honestly felt a bit bad considering that it was still chilly outside, but you quickly bit your lip when you realized that they could have easily become guests of the hotel if they had chosen. 

It was dedicated to those that had the end-goal in sight of redemption, so you supposed that was one of the reasons they chose the streets. Still, it was better than being homeless, and with how pleasant the hotel was, they could have easily turned their lives around for the better. Made something of themselves. Did  _ something  _ to get them out of the hole they dug for themselves. They had the option but didn’t take it. No matter how badly you wanted to advertise it to them, the expressions on their faces told you that it was best for you to keep walking.

So you did, following after Husk until suddenly he stopped in a manner that was too quick for you to react to, to which you slammed directly into a hard barrier.

“Oof.” 

As your attention returned to reality, you soon came to the realization that what you were against  _ wasn’t  _ a wall, a pole, or even a tree, but instead a  _ person.  _ Immediately, you stepped back, ready to blurt out a series of apologies before you were silenced by how intensely Husk was reacting to the individual you had just less-than-appropriately collided with. 

His wings, which were generally found to be lazily drooping from his shoulder blades, were now completely extended, the fur that lined his body standing on end in a grand display of what was either shock or perhaps a show of intimidation. Whatever it was, you were thoroughly confused by the entire display. It was a rarity in and of itself.

“Why are you-“ your words fell flat as you followed his gaze to a man that was clad in a primarily black, red, and teal striped suit. That hardly surprised you, and you would have gone on your way if the blood didn’t drain from your face when you were met face to… screen. A television screen. With a face on it. And you could only utter a soft ‘oh shit’ when recognition hit you full force.

“You’re blocking the path, dipshit.” Husk spoke up before the demon could even comprehend what was going on. 

Did he care? Absolutely fucking not, but having had an unfortunate run-in with this dickwad before, Husk knew that he would pull him into a conversation without his consent. He probably would have continued to brush past him if you didn’t look like you were about to shit yourself. Husk frowned. Of course, he was the one that had to be there. The bar didn’t even sound half as entertaining anymore- he just wanted to get the fuck back to the hotel and  _ sleep. _

A loud scoff resounded above you. 

“Excuse the  _ fuck  _ out of you!?” The Monitor Demon hissed out, turning around to inspect the situation. “Do you have any idea-” The declaration of words died in his throat when he realized who exactly he was talking to, and the expression upon the screen shifted into a rather imposing conveyance. 

“Oh, why wouldn’t you know! It’s Al-y’s little kitty cat!” Vox crowed loudly, wildly motioning towards Husk with some strange, wicked sense of enthusiasm. However, soon enough, when he was only rebuffed with a deeper frown, Vox began to scan the surroundings. “So, where  _ is  _ our favorite little radio head?” He completely disregarded you as he bowed at the waist in front of the feline. 

“I usually know when he comes through- does that mean you’re all alone?” There was something dangerous that lurked behind his voice, a sense of unease clawing its way up your spine just as he seemed to take notice of your presence, much to your absolute misfortune. In some weird, janky way, the Monitor Demon almost reminded you of Alastor in his mannerisms and energetic expressions. 

You leaned away just as the screen came close enough to your face for you to feel the static lapping at your skin. Immediately, you scrunched your nose up in distaste as you felt a push from a finger onto your shoulder, and seeing an out when you did, you took a large step away.

“And who are you? Al looking for somebody to walk his puss? Here, kitty, kitty!” A ridiculously loud and eccentric laugh escaped him as he leaned back, one hand on his hip and the other on his abdomen as if he truly had heard the funniest joke in all of existence. 

To say you were at a loss for words was the understatement of the year.  _ This  _ was Alastor's rival? The almighty Vox? The  _ Overlord _ ? The one that was acting like a school-boy trying to get the attention of his crush? You immediately felt annoyance trickle in, your curious yet almost fearful expression settling into unimpressed annoyance. His voice sounded like it was being filtered through a screen as if you were truly watching a show- and unfortunately for you, you weren't able to grab the nearest remote and flip the channel. 

“Come on.”

You felt a tug to your sleeve, and you probably could have gotten out of this without a scratch to your psyche, as Vox was still laughing and would probably continue to be doing so for an extended period of time. You should have followed Husk's instructions, should have kept moving and stayed behind him and pushed past Vox, completely ignoring him- but the fact that he had been  _ waiting _ here for Alastor, for some unknown reason that made your skin crawl. You yanked your arm out of Husk's grip and turned around.

"Kid-" There was a warning tone in Husk's voice then. He knew how impulsive you were.

You shouldn't have said anything. You shouldn't have taken that step forward. You shouldn't have opened your goddamn mouth and said with  _ confidence:  _ “Why were you waiting for him? I know who you are, and he’s not going to come!” Oh, damn it- you should have kept walking.

Playing with fire never had good outcomes.

The laughter died down into snickers, the Monitor Demon bringing up a finger to wipe away a stray tear, that you were entirely sure was simply a virtual image, and flick it away. That finger soon returned to point at you- no, not at you,  _ through you _ . “Whiskers, get your owner! Jeez, a guy can’t stalk his own property?” 

_ Property? _

"Alastor belongs to me.” Vox clarified, his hand coming to rest at his sternum in a grand show of self-entitlement, “In fact,  _ all _ of the Overlords work for me. Alastor is no exception! He is going to fall in line just like all the rest! You got that, fluffy?"

You were starting to get pissed off. Husk was standing behind you now, just off to the side but enough for you to feel his presence. Alright, so you were small, Vox could easily pummel you to the ground or step on you, but you weren’t going to fucking let him talk about Alastor that way. How dare he? You felt a clawed hand on your shoulder then, pulling you out of your pissed off reverie. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Husk muttered.

Oh, but you were already thinking about it.

“First off,  _ fuck _ you,” you snapped. “Second of all, you’re really lucky I’m not as tall as you or I would break that stupid screen of yours! Alastor doesn’t belong to you, he hardly cares about being an Overlord. That stuff doesn’t even interest him! Just because you have a fancy title,” you made a face, “doesn’t mean shit to me. He’s  _ mine.” _

And you know, you really thought you had him. You really thought you could take him on right outside of Wcdonalds.

An expression of stupefaction came over to rest on Vox's face. This pint-sized little... well, whatever it was had just yelled at him loud enough to the point he actually took notice. After a moment to process what you had said, Vox's face shifted from shock to joyous malice. Now, that was some valuable information that had been dropped right at his feet.

"Oh, yeah? He's  _ yours _ ? I didn't hear about this." He was now moving toward you, his stride long and calculated- and for the second time in the span of five minutes, you felt your bravado slip out the back door. 

“So… in that case, does that mean  _ YOU _ get to work for me too!?”

Oh, you fucked up.

"Husk-ie boy, you didn't even tell me!” Vox cried. “And I thought we were all friends here!"

Husk spoke, "I ain't your friend or your therapist.”

Aw shit. 

Your expression fell as you felt static dance upon your skin, but it wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t Alastor’s static or anything remotely similar; it was heavy- as if you were slowly being encompassed by a television’s electricity alone. It was at that moment that you felt lost on what to do, your ego completely dipping on you as you were confronted by a being larger than life. This was it. You were a goner. You should have kept your fucking mouth shut. 

“Oh, Voxy~!” 

A feminine voice called out then, and your attention snapped to a woman clad in a jester-like outfit. She was skipping out into the parking lot from the store, three brown bags with stains of grease dripping off of the bottom. 

And then she noticed you and Husk. 

“Ohh, what’s going on here? You didn’t tell me we were going to be meeting up with some friends! Not that it’s a problem of course, hello! I’m Velvet!” She held out a hand to you.

And for the first time, you weren’t eager to shake it. 

Slowly, you turned your attention back to Vox, a scowl on your face.

“Shake my hand, come on!” The lady insisted, pushing Vox out of the way and placing her hand in front of you again. 

“No, thank y-“

“I said  **shake it.** ” Her voice dropped an octave, her lower eyelid twitching slightly.

You slowly took her hand, and immediately her appearance returned to normal, eyes pinched in joy as she nearly ripped your arm off from shaking it with such vigor- to which only a giggle escaped her.

Husk yanked you back suddenly. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. You got us into enough shit as is. Don’t be the goddamn hero, kid.” He hissed.

You frowned.

"Aw, what a shame! We like heroes, don't we Vel?" Vox instigated.

"Oh! Of course, we do!" Velvet then ran past you and circled around to Husk. "Hey Mr. Kitty Cat, how are you?" Husk was giving you a look that could send you to Double-Hell. "Oi, don't I know you from somewhere? Ain’t you one of those Mafioso Big Wigs? No… Oo! What about a cowboy? I can definitely see ya riding around going  _ bang, bang! _ " She pointed with finger guns, poking Husker’s face.

Vox was starting to move closer again, this time with his arms out as if he was going to snatch you up right then and there.

"Oh yeah now I remember- you're one of Alastor's little toys ain’t ya?" She turned to Vox. "Am I right?"

Her question distracted Vox for a moment, "Huh? What, yeah. Yeah, that's him."

You seized the opportunity to duck past the Monitor Demon and reunite with Husk.

And in that second, you were given a life-saving piece of distraction- a ringing of a phone that did not belong to you, but instead to the one person you desperately wanted to escape at that moment. There was a loud scoff before Vox turned around, his coat-tails fluttering for a moment from the intensity of the movement. 

“‘Bout fuckin’ time… Hello?”

A pause.

“Yeah, where do you think we are? Velvet’s got the food in her hand right now!”

Velvet, hearing her name, left Husk alone for a moment, and began hopping back to Vox's side. "Is that Val?" She asked.

"Of course it’s fuckin’ Val, who the fuck else would it be?" Vox turned his back to her and began to get very animated with his free hand.

Husk took your arm with a tight grip, and the two of you escaped across the street before Vox had turned back around.

"You tell Al, I'm comin' for ‘im!" Vox was suddenly yelling, fast-paced, and belligerent all the while still on his phone. "Nothin’s gonna stop me! Not you, nor shorty over there! I always get what I want, and I want Alastor!"

He was shaking his fist at the sky while Velvet was now tapping away on her phone as if nothing had ever happened. When you finally rounded the corner, you let out that heavy exhale that you had been holding it since you and Husk first made it across the street.

"Bet you're gonna listen to me next time, huh?"

Without saying a word you simply nodded, the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of your sails. 

When the two of you had returned to the hotel, your entire body was used to push open the door and, upon noticing Alastor standing just off to the side, no doubt still conversing with Lucifer, you took off and attached yourself helplessly to his back. In that instant, you felt his muscles stiffen, his arms rising to peer down at whoever had just dared to do such a thing, but upon noticing that it was only you, he slowly relaxed. 

“What on earth-”

“I did something bad!” You cried into his suit jacket.

There was a moment of silence before your arms were pried off of him, and you were pulled in front and could now observe Alastor’s expression, and you watched amidst your panic as his eyes trailed across your body. 

For a moment there was simply an overjoyed air to him before it slowly turned into a mixture of disappointed confusion.

“There’s no blood? Burns?”

You probably should have been more concerned that his first gut instinct was the assumption you had committed murder or arson.

“No, I- I met Vox.”

A loud, ear-piercing screech escaped Alastor then, that once relaxed smile being pulled right against his lips as he kneeled down in front of you. “Darling,” his voice was strained. “What happened?” 

And so you told him, and by the end of it all, he had an aggrieved look on his face. The man that always had a whip-crack response was silenced for the first time in a long while, and you found yourself fidgeting in a grand display of nerves. 

The entire lobby was silenced.

Even Lucifer, who was now silently chewing on an apple in the corner of the room, his eyebrows raised in his amused entertainment while his body was leaned atop the ridge of the fireplace, was quiet. 

“What else did he say?” Alastor inquired and you observed how the muscles in his jaw clenched and then relaxed.

“Nothing. That was it. Husk and I came back here afterward…” your voice faltered as a sudden vibration came to grasp your attention for a moment. You ignored it, until another, and another, and another came. Taking it out of your pocket, you turned it on and, low and behold, you had been invited to a group chat. Well, not invited, but practically forced to join. The numbers were unknown.

+1 (666 - ...): Hiya  (≧▽≦)/ This is Velvet! Wanted to talk to you some more, you seem FUN! This was the only way I could get ahold of you so Ta-Da! Here I am!  ≧◠ᴥ◠≦

+1 (666 - …): Vel? Babydoll? Who are you talking to?

+1 (666 - …): New friend, met her @ Wcdonalds (*≧ω≦*)

+1 (666 - …): One of mine?

+1 (666 - …): Nope! This one is a friend of Vox's (⁀ᗢ⁀)

A new number messaged then.

+1 (666 - …): What? Who? They’re in this chat??? Velvet, what the fuck, this is supposed to be a private server!

+1 (666 - …): Don't mind the dork squad.  (¬‿¬) I'm here to help! First off we’ve gotta start with your choice in tops. Girl, you need more than help- you need an exorcism or something smh (×﹏×)

You stared down at that phone for what felt like forever before Alastor cleared his throat. 

“Hey Husk?” You called from Alastor’s side. 

“What.” His tone was flat as he guzzled a bottle.

“Is it possible for someone to get my phone number without me giving it to them?”

“And who might that be?” Alastor bent at the waist to look at that silly contraption that you held, watching with a detached interest as the messages started wheezing past.

“Velvet, Vox, and Val…”

_ That  _ was the moment that the phone was wrenched out of your grip, and you watched helplessly as the phone was crushed under Alastor’s grip. When he opened up his hand again, the entire thing had been turned into black dust, to which he simply threw it into the roaring flames of the fireplace.

You suddenly anguished the loss of your phone.

“Now that everything’s jake, sweetheart. Please do excuse me,” he pecked your forehead, and, with a flourish, turned back around to converse with Lucifer. 

And you thought that had been the last of it, but oh no- not at all! No, it was about to get that much worse! You stiffened are the sound of a doorbell and, in typical Charlie fashion, she appeared out of practically thin air and darted straight towards the door.

“I’ll get it!”

When she opened it, the scent of florals filled the entirety of the room. A green figure sporting an acorn-themed outfit held out flowers. 

“Charlie?”

“That’s me!”

“Uh… here you go. These were what you ordered, yeah? From Rosie’s?” 

Charlie let out a happy squeal, taking the sample bouquets into her arms.

“Oh yes!! Thank you so much! Wait here, I’ll get a tip for you- Vaggie! The flowers!” 

You watched as Charlie excitedly ran about, calling for her fiance to come down. She returned to the door, sorting through her wallet.

“Hey thanks, I was just helping my girl Lilac out but I won’t say no to some extra dough.” He stuffed the bills in the pocket of his jacket, winking two of his five eyes at Charlie. 

“Thank you so much! If you see her tell her they look amazing! Oh hey- are those your friends?”

The person at the door looked behind themselves to see a limousine pulling up, the windows tinted and looking particularly  _ edgy.  _ The atmosphere changed in the instant that Angel, who had been draped across the couch, went over to the door and peeked out. 

“Aw, fuck…” 

“What? Who is it? Are they new guests?” Charlie looked excited, practically bouncing as she tried to get a better look. The delivery boy grimaced lightly, adjusting his hat.

“Nah Nah. That’s ah… that limousine belongs to,” he shifted anxiously from one foot to the other and began to back away from the door, not looking to stick around. “... Val.”

Looking up at the silent spider, you never thought you would have seen the day that Angel Dust was  _ actually _ scared shitless.

But crazier things had happened, you supposed. 


	72. Can’t Be Everyone’s Hero

Two hours. 

That was how long they had been outside. Two hours since that limo pulled up, two hours since that delivery boy had hightailed it out of there after seeing the car, and two hours since your anxiety had been blown out of proportion. You couldn’t help but wonder whether or not you had been the one to have started this; that if by chance, this silent stand-off was  _ your  _ fault. Of course, you weren’t acquainted with Valentino, but if those text messages had put anything into perspective, Vox and Velvet  _ were.  _

But then there was Angel Dust, who, quite frankly, had very little to say about the situation. If it wasn’t you, it had to do something with him, right? You weren’t off your rocker to think such a thing, surely. There had to be a reason for this stalemate, each side waiting for the other to make a move, a mistake, anything to assume that there was some opening. Angel Dust hadn’t stuck around to explain, and considering the amount of pressure there was in the lobby- you had to guess that this Val was really  _ not _ someone to mess with.

_ Clack, clack, clack. _

You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched the residents of the hotel attempt to act like nothing was going on. 

_ Clack, clack, clack. _

They were failing miserably.

_ Clack, clack, cla— _

The sound of glass slamming down onto the counter made you jump, and you snapped your attention over to Husk who was staring at your nails. Without saying anything, you slowly brought your hands from off the counter and returned them to your lap with a small, appeasing smile. He grunted in response and just as quickly returned to his task at hand which was, to no surprise of anyone, drinking yet another bottle. A soft sigh escaped you as you spun around in your seat and slipped off of it. This was ridiculous. 

Alastor had stuck around for a while to ensure nothing happened (he had stated that if something  _ was  _ going to happen, it would have happened already) before going off to mess around with Lucifer. Which, as you all were very much aware, was not a good thing; though it wasn’t like you could say ‘no’ to either of them. 

Well, you could to Alastor, but then came the probable embarrassment of him saying something back to keep his image in check. His publicity was important to him, after all. That being said, despite having a long list of tasks to still complete before the wedding, everything felt like it was at a standstill. 

No matter how many times you or anyone else tried, not a single person could focus with the impending doom that was practically stalking outside and embedding itself in the back of your mind, rapping at your brain’s door, demanding to be let in. 

“Husk?”

“Hm.”

You turned around then to look up at him with doleful eyes. “You don’t think I did this, do you? Is this my fault?”

Husk stared at you for a long moment as if he were contemplating even humoring you before he put the bottle and sighed. “Kid, look.” He leaned on his elbow, his left fist supporting his head. “You have the tendency to do some stupid shit, but let me ask you something.”

“... Okay?”

“Did you see them following us?”

“No.”

“Neither did I- so you’re not at fault.” He stated bluntly. “Now, I don’t know what the fuck  _ is _ going on out there, but sometimes it’s best to just not care at all. Less stress.” 

“And how’s that worked out for you?”

“I’m still kickin’, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” _Though you wouldn’t necessarily call it living. _You huffed, your shoulders sagging as you turned around and leaned on the counter with your own elbows, surveying your surroundings absentmindedly. Something still didn’t feel right. Why were they here to even begin with? Was it just some intimidation tactic? What would happen if you or maybe Angel left the hotel? 

Like some lightbulb that went off in your mind, you suddenly knew what you had to do. Sliding off of the swivel seat, you tossed the bar cat an appreciative glance. 

“Thanks for the help, Husk.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

You frowned. “I meant earlier, you know… saving my ass. Hey… Why- why are you like this?” 

Albeit, it would be odd to see him as anything other than a grumpy feline who drank more than he breathed.

Husk chuffed. “Like what?”

“Like…  _ that.”  _

“You just motioned to all of me.”

“Exactly.” Your hands found your hips after a moment.

There was a prolonged period of eye contact before Husk’s lip twitched, his body moving to awkwardly reach to grab a glass that was already spotless, just to clean it again. 

“Uh, I’m just gonna…” Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. “... Go.” You spun on your heels at the grunt. 

Just as you were about the exit the lobby, however,

“Kid-“ A gruff voice called behind you.

You froze, your one leg outstretched before coming to rest again.

Quiet. You could hear the hotel creaking and settling in, the natural ambiance usually silenced by the hustle of daily life.

“You were brave.” Husk said at last. “Bravery is rare in this place, and I ain’t seen nothing like you yet.” 

_ Was that praise?  _

Your heart swelled, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“You’re still a stupid little shit, though.”

There it was.

Shaking your head and, with a bit more bravado and pride in your step, you continued onwards.

The hallway was narrow and… longer than you remembered. It was seemingly never-ending, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you noticed the intricate design choices that were carved into the wallpaper and even some of the wood. It was all circus themed; Elephants on rubber balls, apples, merry-go-rounds, tents. Briefly, you wondered what even started that theme to begin with. It was odd, but nevertheless intriguing. The walls held stories that were left untold. 

Eternity was an incomprehensible amount of time, a thought that you didn’t want to even start getting involved with, lest you get caught in _ that  _ never-ending cycle of confusion and frustration. 

Not everything needed to make sense to simply exist. 

It was a lesson that you were coming to grasp; you didn’t  _ need  _ to figure every single detail and every question that there ever had been, and no one expected you to, either. If you had to guess where such a habit (was it considered a habit?) formed, you assumed it started when you had been on the hunt to fill your mind with answers to all of the mysteries of your past.

Your thoughts were cut short when you stopped at a familiar door. A twinge of intimidation crawled up your spine then, your hand coming to reach out and press lightly against the mahogany wood. Angel Dust had turned so sharply and left the front lobby the second that car came into view- he hadn’t said a word. Just… left.

“Angel?” Your voice was soft, unsure, uncertain of if he was even in there, but then again- where else would he be? Swallowing thickly, you took a step forward and knocked. Once. Twice.

Silence.

“Angel,  _ please.  _ I know you must be angry with me, and you have every reason to be, but we-  _ I  _ really need to talk to you.” 

More silence. 

You let out a heavy sigh and ran your fingers through the tresses of your hair before you turned around and slid down into a seated position against the door; your knees were pulled up to your chest. He would have to come out eventually. “I just… I feel like I need to apologize.” You broke the invisible tension - honestly, you weren’t even sure if he was in his room. 

You could have very well been talking to yourself.

“I don’t know what Alastor did to you, but I tried to get him to stop. But he’s,” you paused. “He  _ is  _ a master at manipulation and he  _ did  _ convince me to let him chat with you. I told him not to maim you, so I guess there’s that, but…” God, you were really botching this. “It’s still no excuse.” That feeling of emotion welling up in your chest had returned, a sensation that you hadn’t felt in quite a while and, to say the least, you were caught off-guard by it. 

“I should have been there. I don’t know if something happened and you’re upset at me because of that o-or...” you stuttered, “if I just royally fucked up because I  _ am  _ a royal fuck up, let’s face it.” You laughed a single humorless note. “But… you don’t have to forgive me for that, and I get it if you can’t.” you rested your head against the door with a  _ thump.  _

_“_But can we please talk about what’s going on outside?” 

There was another long silence before you heard the faintest sound of movement behind the door before you heard a thump that mirrored your own. Angel leaned on the other side of the door, knees tucked in tight against his chest and Fat Nuggets cradled close. After yet another moment of nothing, there was an annoyed sigh behind the wood.

“Ya dumb broad- this ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” Angel snapped. “News flash, toots! Not everything does, so quit yer apologizin’ already. Smiles just tried to shake me down but it was obvious he didn’t have any real shit he could do. That car ain’t yer fault either so just mind yer own fuckin’ business for once, will ya?”

Despite the words holding a sour note of distaste in your heart because honestly, you were just as dramatic as he was sometimes, you couldn’t help but let a smile manifest across your face. 

Just hearing his voice was enough for a sensation of relief to roll across you, and as he assured you in typical Angel Dust fashion that he wasn’t pissed off at _you_ specifically, a heavy sigh was released as the tension fell from your shoulders. 

“He didn’t hurt you?” Your voice was quiet, then.

“He tried.” Angel snorted on the other side of the door. “But I ain’t a snivelin’ bitch, I’m more pissed that he stained my coat- shit was expensive and blood is  _ so _ much harder to get out that semen.” 

He sounded annoyed still, after all, he had his own shit to worry about right now, and here you were- butting your nose in as usual. Honestly, you were worse than Charlie. At least she took the damn hint.

“I’m sorr-” you cut yourself off, catching yourself mid-sentence.

“Listen… I don’t know what the fuck we are, if we’re even friends, but I want to help you. You trusted me with that information on your boss that one time, and I’ve kept it.” At the very least, you honored that. “I think I triggered the car coming, Angel. I did something incredibly stupid.” A sigh then. 

“... Not that that’s any sort of surprise.”

You rested your head against the door again, letting your legs go limp and rest against the carpeted floor. 

“I know you’ll tell me not to help you, but we need to do something. They are  _ outside.  _ Alastor left to go ‘hang out’ with Lucifer, which… don’t even get me started on. They’re probably having a masquerade with corpses or something.”

You heard a snort from the other side of the door. That’s progress!

“But the point is,” you shifted slightly, “ _ you  _ are the only one here that has information about what’s going on. I get that you’re scared, Angel, I am too, but you-  _ we  _ need to come up with some sort of plan right? You can’t just exist in a state of fear, y’know?”

You looked down the long hallway then as if you were expecting to see some dark, looming shadow of that impending doom. “That’s not living.” You whispered.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re all dead!” You heard the snap of fingers, then a weak chuckle as Angel attempted to joke away his nerves. “But seriously, toots, trust me on this- we are much better off staying inside than trying to do  _ anything  _ about Val. This is just an intimidation tactic, if we ignore him long enough he’ll go away. He knows he can’t come in here.”

You could faintly hear the repetitive buzz of Angel’s phone going off, then a loud grumble, and then the sound of it being rapidly picked up and dropped back down onto the flooring. 

“... Has he stopped calling and sending gifts?”

There was no response until another loud buzz interrupted the moment of silence between the two of you.

“... Look. Ya don’t know Val like I do, okay? In fact, ya don’t know him at all! And yer sure as  _ shit  _ ain’t the reason he’s here now so you should run off to your bloodthirsty boyfriend. I’ll be fine on my own here.”

You absolutely refused.

“If he hasn’t stopped with the calls and gifts and all that nonsense with getting you back, then you can’t just tell me he’ll  _ leave  _ when he’s still blowing up your phone.” You frowned then, albeit it was short and entirely unseen from his point of view. 

“You know Angel, this hotel has been a safe haven for both of us, but there comes a point in your life where you should, I don’t know,  _ defend  _ it? Instead of hiding in your room, maybe you should talk to Charlie about this mess you’re in if you don’t want to talk to me. She at least deserves an explanation on why there’s some crazy goon lurking outside and putting such a damper on her planning for her own future with Vaggie.” Your nose was crinkled.

“I have  _ tried  _ to be your friend, over and over and over again. I am trying to help you now, but when you push me away, I can’t  _ do  _ anything. So fine- you want to do it alone? You’ll be fine on your own? Then do it yourself. Come on out and tell him face-to-face to get the fuck out of your life because you have found yourself, you have created a life for yourself in these walls.” 

You heaved a breath, staring at his stupid door. 

Silence.

“You know,” you sighed. “Sometimes it’s not a bad idea to ask for help when you can’t do it alone. I pity you.” 

The next thing you registered was the lack of the door supporting your back, making you fall backward, and you smacked your head against the floor. As that moment of pain registered, you were then hoisted up and shoved against the wall of Angel’s bedroom. The arachnid looked positively  _ livid _ . 

You grunted at the impact, and, in your shock, could only stare up at him.

“Ya wanna say that again ya undouched triple gang-banged  _ twat _ ? Hey, here’s a suggestion! Why don’t ya think back a bit? I know yer memory is shit but do tell me how well telling  _ your _ stalker boyfriend to fuck off went for ya? You don’t get it. If ya think it’s a smart idea to walk into the wide-open jaws of a slighted pimp, you know what? Go right ahead- I tried to stop ya once and you ignored my advice.” 

Angel Dust scoffed, flexing his gloved fingers in the collar of your shirt. “Not that I care! Why would I when ya went and ratted me out to him! And- and  _ PLEASE _ tell me exactly how you, of all the dumb bitches in this place, plan to ‘help’!? You were just bitchin’ and moanin’ again about how them being here was your fucking fault and whinin’ like a fuckin’ baby!” He exclaimed. 

“There ain’t  _ nothin’ _ we can do about him! Why would he listen to people he don’t respect or fear!? He won’t! If I walk outside, I’ll be in that limo with a dick up my ass before you can say one more half-assed ‘I’m so sorry wah wah wah!’ or whateva” Angel mocked your tone, shoving away from you and crossing his arms tightly, one arm holding up a middle finger in your direction. 

He leered down at you. “And ya really pity me for not being as  _ stupid _ as you are? Ya need to learn you can’t help everyone, toots! Ya barely can help yerself half the time, always needin’ to gripe and whine to  _ everyone _ about your latest drama! It ain’t even good drama sista, so get yer own shit together before ya try and make me yer next fucking project!”

There were a thousand things you wanted to say at that moment, a hundred different emotions that ran wild through your body as you all but glared at him. Oh, if looks could have killed, he would have been long gone. Double Hell, triple Hell if there was one.

“No,” you said slowly. 

“No. I don’t pity you for being as ‘stupid as I am’, Angel. I pity you because you think that by calling people names and making them feel less than they really are will chase them away. I pity you because you  _ think  _ you DON’T need help! Do you hear half of the shit that leaves your mouth? At least I know when I’m being stupid- I see it after the fact, yeah,” you pushed yourself off of the wall. 

“But at least I know when I have a problem.” You sneered. 

“And you know? If I really am  _ as stupid  _ as you think I am _ ,  _ why would you ever tell me even half of the things you told me about Val, huh? You don’t ‘care’? You think you’re a big man now because you don’t  _ care?  _ You SHOULD care!” 

Your hands flew from your sides in exasperation.

“I shouldn’t be the one fucking talking to you right now! I have a whole lot of shit on my own plate to figure out, right? But because you are holed up in your room throwing a tantrum about how you don’t need help and how your life is so hard and you can’t do anything, everyone else has a fucking LIFE to attend to.”

Your chest heaved as you moved towards the door, your hand resting against the handle.

“ME!?” Angel guffawed. “Ha! I ain’t throwing a tantrum, I came into  _ my  _ room so I could try and calm down and not freak the fuck out! Then you come here trying to make me feel like I’m not trying hard enough when you don’t even know what yer talkin’ about! Way to blame the victim here!” He grabbed his hair, tugging at it in pure frustration. 

Despite the cataclysmic amount of rage and frustration in your own body, you stared at him in silence. “Fine.” If he really didn’t care, then you shouldn’t either. “I hope you figure yourself out, Angel. If you really don’t want my help, then  _ fine.”  _

“Finally! Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Now go, and stay the fuck out.” Angel Dust turned, walking back over to his bed and flopping on it, his back to you.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Your room smells like shit.” You huffed, before turning the knob and letting yourself out. You didn’t even bother closing the door - he could do it on his own, just like he fuckin’ said. What an  _ asshole. _

It didn’t take you long to reach the lobby again, mostly thanks to your impeccable speed-walking abilities. The moment you did, you beelined it straight for the couch, stepping over Critter who had been curled on the rug, chewing on some sort of bone. He paused at your grand entrance and when you flopped onto the sofa, he stood up and waddled over to the side of the couch where your hand lazily hung from. 

You felt a nudge and, amidst digging for your phone before remembering how Alastor had  _ destroyed  _ it, you let out a heavy sigh. Dozens of eyes stared up at you in what you could only assume was a curious or concerned expression, before you twisted yourself to grab Critter underneath his arms and lift him onto you. 

Instantly, he collapsed straight onto your stomach and you let out a grunt. 

“At least you know how to treat a friend,” you whispered, running a hand along his scales. 

“... Maybe we can all learn a thing or two from you.”


	73. INTERMISSION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the mean time, check out my other story!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685644

In light of the recent stresses of life, Dapper Dresser is taking an intermission/hiatus until **October 1st, 2020.** Now before people kill us, please note that the quality in writing has gone down within the past few chapters simply because we’re so busy. Not only will this allow us to refresh, but get us excited to continue writing for you guys. 

**THIS DOES NOT MEAN THE BOOK WILL NOT BE FINISHED! It will!** I made a promise and intend to keep it. I wouldn’t have dragged ya’ll along for 70+ chapters to leave the book unfinished. We have a lot of really cool stuff planned, but we need a bit of time to take a step back, look it over, and come back refreshed and ready to go. 

Thank you for understanding, and stay tuned for November 5th’s update! This notice will be replaced with it, so you won’t get any announcement unless you’re on the discord. 

Sincerely,

Authors.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Over slept.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780404) by [Sunsetrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunsetrose/pseuds/Sunsetrose)
  * [I'm not your protagonist.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332911) by [randomrosewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomrosewrites/pseuds/randomrosewrites)
  * [Lunch time in the swamp](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751045) by [VictoriaBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaBlue/pseuds/VictoriaBlue)
  * [Sacrifice and Martyrdom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158349) by [randomrosewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomrosewrites/pseuds/randomrosewrites)


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